Westeros Academy
by Bardess of Avon
Summary: Drabbles set in a modern boarding school AU. Multicharacter, multiships. Can also be found on tumblr and Ao3.
1. I Want Candy

If he's being honest with himself, Bran doesn't know if he's friends with the Reed siblings because he likes them or because they made it that way. They've certainly made it difficult for him to escape, pushing his wheelchair around campus and forcing him to accompany them everywhere they go—even if he doesn't actually feel like going. Jojen has even charmed his service dog, Summer, and the animal is no help at all on the rare occasions Bran feels like putting up a fight.

He doesn't mind, really, even if they're a bit different from what he's used to.

Well, okay, maybe they're a lot different from what he's used to.

They spend their weekends in the godswood behind the academy, petting Summer and avoiding the nasty groundskeeper, Sandor Clegane—more commonly known among students as the Hound. Sometimes Meera gets bored and climbs trees until her hair is tangled and her knees are skinned. Sometimes Jojen weaves wildflowers together and makes crowns for them. He teaches Bran, and the habit becomes infectious. Jojen has that effect on Bran.

One Friday, when Jojen is pushing Bran to their math class, Meera approaches them with a look of savage triumph on her face.

"I got some candy," she says in an ecstatic whisper.

Jojen smirks. "All right. Good stuff?"

"Good stuff," she assures him. "Let's save it for tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Bran isn't stupid. He knows she doesn't mean candy. He just, well, doesn't know what candy means. Headmaster Lannister doesn't allow a number of things on campus, and Bran is just sheltered enough that the biggest thing doesn't occur to him.

So when he sees Meera pull out a baggie and an unmistakably-shaped glass object (he grew up around Theon, for seven's sake, of course he knows what a bowl looks like), his eyes go wide.

"That's the, the candy?" he blurts in disbelief.

The Reeds laugh.

"What, did you think it was actual candy?" Meera snorts as she packs the bowl.

"No," he says, blushing fiercely. "I just thought it was, you know…" He tries to think of something that isn't embarrassing but he can't.

"Have you ever smoked, Bran?" Jojen asks in that way of his, as if he knows something Bran doesn't. That's usually the case. His lips curve in that not-quite-a-smirk of his, the one that makes him look like he's up to no good.

"Theon does a lot," Bran says, because this sounds like a better answer. "And Robb and Jon—smoke—with him sometimes." He lowers his eyes. "But…I never…"

Meera releases a lazy cloud of smoke. "Oh, my sweet summer child," she says in a pitying sort of voice, wisps of smoke still curling from her lips.

"You don't have to, you know," Jojen assures him, accepting the bowl and lighter.

Bran looks from Meera, who has a smirk on her face, to Jojen, who is watching him the way he always does. As if Bran might do something strange and exciting any moment and Jojen doesn't want to miss it.

He isn't disappointed; Bran snatches the bowl out of his hands and lights it before Meera can finish asking him if he knows what he's doing.

He releases the smoke a moment later. "I grew up with Theon," he says, leaning back against his tree. "Of course I know what I'm doing."

.

Meera has a playlist on her phone for just such occasions; they lean against the trees in the godswood and listen to some indie band that sounds like they wear a lot of plaid until the bowl is empty. There's more in the baggie, but Meera says they'll save it for another day.

Bran finds that it's easier to talk about the things he keeps so carefully locked away in his head. He talks about the dreams he's had since his accident, the ones Osha told him not to talk about at school. He talks about the three-eyed raven that he chases on working legs, the slingshot that he always aims and always misses at the creature. Jojen listens intently, weaving them both flower crowns, but Meera sinks into a heap on the grass and falls asleep.

"You know why you can't kill it, don't you?" Jojen says rather than asks, draping a flower crown over Summer's head. The dog twitches an ear but otherwise does not move. "The raven is you."

Jojen is always saying things like this. He's into stuff like interpreting dreams and horoscopes and tarot cards—the kind of things that earn him the nickname Jojen Weed. Bran can't exactly deny anymore that the nickname is an accurate one, but he doesn't mind that Jojen is so…out there. Jojen is a nice deviation from the quite-grounded-in-reality-thank-you-very-much Stark family.

"How can I be the raven?" Bran asks. "I'm already, well, me. I can feel myself running. My legs are working again."

Jojen gives him one of those smirks again. "Your legs only work in the dreams with the three-eyed raven, don't they?"

Bran stares at him through glassy eyes. "I…well, yeah…"

"You have three eyes, too, Bran. You just have to open the third one and see."

Bran giggles without quite knowing why. "I'm too high for this," he declares.

Jojen leans forward. "You shut yourself off too easily. Your dreams are trying to tell you something. Listen to them."

The smoke has loosened his tongue and his inhibitions, and Bran finds himself blurting out, "I've seen you in my dreams before."

Jojen smiles that secretive smile of his. "Oh yeah? What happened?"

Bran blushes. "I…I can't remember."

Jojen scoots closer until he's sitting next to Bran. "You don't have to hide yourself from me, Bran," he says quietly.

Bran stares down at his lap and forces his mouth shut before he can blurt out anything else. He can hear Osha's voice in his head, chiding him for talking so much.

"It's me, Bran," Jojen murmurs. He places two fingers under Bran's chin and gently turns his face to look up at him. "Don't hide from me."

Bran doesn't stop to think, just leans forward and presses his lips to Jojen's. They are soft and sweet and everything and nothing like Bran imagined.

They pull apart some minutes later, Jojen grinning and Bran redder than he's ever been.

"Is that what happened in your dream?" Jojen murmurs, tracing patterns only he can see on Bran's cheek.

Bran turns even redder. "Not exactly," he mumbles.

Jojen chuckles and presses one, two, three kisses along Bran's jaw.

"I go to sleep for a few minutes and look what happens." Meera smirks at them through half-lidded eyes. She rolls onto her back and stretches languidly. "It's about time, though."

Bran could happily sink into the earth in his humiliation, but Jojen tangles their fingers together as if it is the most natural thing in the world. As if to remind Bran that there is nothing to be afraid of.

.

The Hound chases them out of the godswood some hours later with threats of expulsion and corporal punishment—threats they all know very well he won't make good on. It doesn't stop Jojen and Meera from running for their lives, pushing Bran wildly in front of them as they duck around trees and away from the Hound thundering after them.

It's a lot different from what he's used to.

But he thinks he's starting to like it.


	2. A Night to (Not) Remember

Why don't you room with Jeyne, they said. It will be fun, they said.

Sansa had never regretted her life decisions more.

Jeyne was the kind of friend who you liked much better from a distance. When she was your roommate and borrowed your clothes and used your toothpaste and woke you up early with her ab-flattening-and-breast-enlarging exercises, well, that was a horse of a different color.  
Every year, Sansa was determined to find a new roommate—one who plugged in their headphones and kept their mess on their side of the room. And every year, she somehow found herself thinking, "Well, maybe next year will be better."

Hah.

Sansa had a list of 142 reasons why, if she ever killed Jeyne Poole, she would be completely justified. The most recent addition to the list was her obsession with Theon Greyjoy.  
Sansa was surprised, to say the least, though not entirely disappointed. Jeyne usually went for older men…men like their professors. She had spent all of last year mooning over their English teacher, Beric Dondarrion, and there had even been that embarrassing stint with Renly Baratheon, followed by the even more embarrassing stint of Jeyne admitting that Sansa's father was a DILF. Sansa was relieved, at least, that her latest older-man-crush was on someone a bit more accessible.

Sansa supposed that she couldn't exactly blame Jeyne, either. Theon had started college in the fall, along with Robb and Jon, and the change of environment did wonders for him. He'd finally fixed that ridiculous facial hair he was always trying to grow and evened out his hair; add that to the toned body he'd spent the summer developing (to impress college girls, of course), and Sansa supposed she could see where the appeal lay. He was too much like her gross older brother or cousin or something for her to think of him like that, but thinking of him like that seemed to be all Jeyne could do.

"What kind of girls does Theon like?" "What kind of music does Theon listen to?" "Did you ever see Theon's penis? What, it's a legitimate question."

Sansa gave Jeyne Theon's number and hoped that that would shut her up.

It didn't.

"SANSA!" Jeyne screeched the moment Sansa entered the room. "Theon's college friends are having a party this weekend!"

Sansa blinked. "Oh. Okay."

"He invited us to come along!" squealed Jeyne. "Isn't that fabulous?!"

Oh no.

"That was nice of him," Sansa said delicately. "But I, uh, don't think I'll be going."

"What?!" Jeyne jumped off her bed and ran to Sansa. "You have to come. If I go alone I'll look like a loser. I'll be that lame girl who came by herself."

"Well, I'm sorry, Jeyne, but I really don't want to go." Sansa avoided her roommate's eye as she kicked off her shoes.

"But Sansaaaa," Jeyne whined. "This might be my only opportunity to impress Theon! Don't you want my happiness, Sansa?"

Ugh.

"Well…"

Jeyne fell on her knees. "Pleeeease? I'll do your homework."

"You never do your own homework."

"Right, right. I'll let you borrow my Jimmy Choos."

"They were mine."

"Oh, right. Well, I'll...give you the room whenever you have a boy over."

"Because my love life is so busy right now," Sansa said irritably, starting to turn away.

"I'll keep the room clean for a month!" Jeyne threw out in desperation.

Sansa turned back to her, slowly. "Do you promise?"

Jeyne seized her opportunity. "Yes! Yes, I promise, Sansa, cross my heart, hope to die."

Sansa considered. "Oh…all right."

Jeyne squealed at an unnatural pitch and threw her arms around Sansa. "You won't regret this, I promise!"

Sansa could already feel herself starting to.

If Sansa had regretted her decision to chaperone Jeyne before, she full-out rued the day Jeyne Poole came into her life when they walked into the frat house.  
Jeyne had picked out their outfits and even did Sansa's makeup for her. The effect of dark eye makeup, skimpy tops, skinny jeans, unfortunately high platforms and dangly earrings was supposed to make them look older and more collegiate, but Sansa couldn't help thinking that they looked like victims of sex trafficking.

No sooner had they walked into the crowded frat house (it was more like dignified stumbling in their platforms) than a rotund boy near the door bellowed, "DIBS!"  
Sansa's mouth fell open. "Did he just—"

"Theon!" Jeyne shouted. She stopped to adjust her bra (she'd stuffed it in the hopes of attracting Theon's attention) before grabbing Sansa's arm and dragging her through the sea of people.

Theon was in a corner talking to a guy who looked much too old to be at a frat party, but he turned to hug both of them when they stumbled to a halt beside him. "I'm glad you made it," he shouted over the noise with an emphatic wink at Jeyne. "Can I get you ladies anything to drink?"

"No thanks," shouted Sansa. She wasn't sure that she'd trust Theon with getting her a drink even if she wasn't the designated driver.

"I'll have something," Jeyne said sweetly.

"I'll be right back," Theon promised, winking again for Jeyne's benefit.

Jeyne turned to talk to Theon's friend, but Sansa was lost in the din around her. People were dancing everywhere to a bassline she could barely make out, and almost all of them were holding red Solo cups. A few of the more enthusiastic dancers were sloshing purple liquid everywhere; a splash of the concoction landed near Sansa's feet and effectively drowned her hopes and dreams.

Theon returned bearing two red Solo cups. "Party Juice for the lady, and a virgin Sierra Mist for the other lady," he said gallantly, handing Sansa the cup with the clear liquid. She swirled the cup suspiciously before she took a small sip.

Jeyne had no such misgivings. She downed half her cup and laughed. "This is so good!" she shouted. "What's in it?"

"You don't want to know," said Theon's friend.

"Oh, shit, I forgot; this is my bro Dontos," Theon shouted. "Don, this is my adopted sister, Sansa, and her roommate Jeyne."

"Adopted, huh?" Dontos said in a way that made Sansa extremely uncomfortable.

"You wanna dance?" Theon asked Jeyne when she'd finished her drink.

"Yeah!" she agreed enthusiastically, tugging him out to join the other couples.

"Your friend is a live-wire," Dontos shouted.

"You have no idea," Sansa muttered.

Dontos leaned in closer. "I didn't know Theon had such a hot sister."

Sansa squirmed. "Um…"

"I'm sorry, I'm kinda drunk," Dontos admitted. "Do you wanna dance?"

Sansa searched for an excuse and found none. "Oh, um…no." Dontos looked as if he was about to protest. "I have to, um, pee." And she hightailed it away from him as fast as her platforms would allow her.

She ended up on a couch between two couples violently making out, but at least she was away from Dontos. She sipped her Sierra Mist and watched everyone have a better time than her.

Jeyne and Theon found her some time later. Jeyne could barely walk, and Sansa didn't know if it was because of her shoes or the drink she had chugged or an unfortunate combination of both.

"Have you been over here this whole time?" Jeyne shouted.

"Your friend Dontos is a creep," Sansa said with an accusing look at Theon.

"Aw, I'm sure he was just messing with you," Theon laughed. "Come on, get up and have some fun!"

"No thanks."

"Sansaaaaaaaaaaaaa." Jeyne plopped herself in Sansa's lap. "You are such a party-pooper! Come on and daaaaance!"

Sansa wrinkled her nose. "Jeyne, what was in that drink, you smell awful."

"Girls just wanna have fun!" Jeyne started to belt. "Ooohhhh girls just wanna have—that's all they really wanna haaaaave!"

"I might have given her a second drink," Theon confessed. "And a third."

"Thanks, Theon," Sansa drawled. "Come on, let's get you out in the fresh air."

She and Theon led a stumbling Jeyne outside. Sansa had hoped that it would be quieter out here, or at least less crowded, but to no avail; there were even more people outside, shouting to one another and laughing uproariously. Sansa wondered if the police hadn't been alerted to the noise yet or just didn't care.

Jeyne collapsed against Theon and giggled. "Whoops, clumsy ol' me!"

"Sweetie, maybe you should take your shoes off," Theon suggested, but Sansa noticed that he wasn't exactly removing his arms from around Jeyne's waist.

"No, my shoes are cute and I look great," Jeyne insisted. "Besides, I have a handsome knight to catch me when I fall!"

Sansa wished she could sink through the patio so she wouldn't have to listen to this. "Oh, look," she said loudly. "There's something going on."

Jeyne stopped giggling against Theon long enough to watch a group of frat boys carry out a keg. They were surrounded by even more frat boys, all of whom were chanting, "KEGSTAND! KEGSTAND! KEGSTAND!"

"I wanna do a kegstand!" Jeyne bellowed.

"Um, Jeyne, maybe that's not the best idea…"

But Jeyne was already sailing towards the keg. "Meeee!" she shouted. "Pick meeee!"

Oh, seven hells," Sansa groaned, tearing after her friend.

Two muscly frat boys were already hoisting Jeyne up into the air; a third held the tap up to her mouth.

"ONE, TWO, THREE," the guys chanted. "FOUR, FIVE, SIX!"

Sansa watched nervously as Jeyne continued gulping from the tap. She had already consumed more than she was capable of handling—Sansa wasn't looking forward to the level of intoxication Jeyne was about to reach. No one else shared her concerns; a huge crowd had gathered around the keg and everyone was cheering, "CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG!" The tissues Jeyne had used to stuff her bra fell out and Sansa covered her face in secondhand embarrassment.

Well, you couldn't say this wouldn't be a night to remember. If Jeyne remembered anything at all, really.

Finally she kicked her legs and the boys set her down, cheering.

"That was so much fuuuuun!" Jeyne shouted as she stumbled into Theon's arms. She looked at Sansa and beamed. "We should totally make out!"

"Go get her some water or something," Sansa groaned, tugging Jeyne out of Theon's arms.

"Are you two gonna make out?" he wanted to know.

"NOW, THEON."

Theon slunk into the house with a disappointed look.

"Hey, Sansa," Jeyne slurred. "Doesn't that guy look like Renly Baratheon?"

Sansa followed Jeyne's gaze and was horrified to see that it was indeed her T.A. He seemed to have misplaced his shirt and he appeared to be playing Edward Fortyhands with a group of guys surrounding him.

"Jeyne, that is Renly Baratheon, and we are so fucked."

Renly's eyes met theirs and for a long moment, the three of them were planted to the ground in terror. Then Sansa and Jeyne wheeled around and ran as fast as their platforms would allow. If they had looked back, they would see that Renly was running in the opposite direction just as fast, beer sloshing out of the 40s duct-taped to his hands.

"We are dead, we are so dead," Sansa kept groaning. "He's going to tell my dad and the headmaster and we'll be expelled oh my gods…"

They ran straight into two men and Sansa immediately apologized. "I'm so sorry, we—" Her face paled. "Professor Dondarrion…Professor Thoros."

"That was an impressive display, Miss Poole," Thoros said, smirking.

"Yeah only I don't feel so good anymore," Jeyne slurred. She promptly retched purple vomit all over Beric Dondarrion's shoes. "Oh, shit."

"Well, it was lovely running into you, see you on Monday!" Sansa said loudly as she grabbed Jeyne and dragged her through the crowd. "Of all the people you had to throw up on, it  
had to be our English teacher?!"

"I know; now I'll never have a chance with him," Jeyne said mournfully.

Sansa propped her up against the wall of the house. "Wait here, I'm going to try and find Theon."

She dove back into the crowd, keeping an eye out for the man who had caused this mess. She eventually located him in the kitchen, laughing with a bunch of frat boys.

"I sent you to get water!" she snapped.

"I was," he defended, holding up a red Solo cup as proof. "I just got distracted."

Sansa rolled her eyes and snatched the cup of water out of his hands. He followed her outside…

…where Jeyne was surrounded by frat boys and attempting to reenact the Cup Song.

It was embarrassing to watch; she had no rhythm and kept accidentally smashing her cup until someone handed her a new one. Several bystanders were taking vines of the event.

Even Theon whipped out his phone, much to Sansa's embarrassment.

"I promise I can do it!" Jeyne insisted. "I'm just…I'm sorry, I've never been this drunk before."

"Jeyne," Sansa said, edging closer to her.

"This is my first party," Jeyne continued, leaning against the two nearest males. "I'm having soooo much fun but oh my god I'm so drunk, I'm sorry, this is embarrassing."

"No, you're fine," one of the boys said a little too eagerly. "Maybe we should take you upstairs so you can…rest?"

"Excuse me," said Sansa, moving forward to try and extricate Jeyne.

One of the frat boys slapped her ass. "Are redheads as crazy in the sack as everyone says they are?"

"Hey man," Theon said in a warning tone.

It was at that moment that Renly Baratheon, still shirtless and duct-taped hands now covered in shards of glass, burst out of nowhere. He charged into the ring of boys around Jeyne and Sansa, brandishing a rake and shouting, "GET AWAY FROM THE UNDERAGE GIRLS!"

The frat boys scattered, leaving Jeyne to topple into Sansa's arms as Renly continued chasing them down. ("Where did he even get a rake from?!")  
"Theon, help," Sansa commanded. Theon scooped up Jeyne ("You're so stroooong!") and followed Sansa out to her car, where he promptly deposited Jeyne in the passenger seat—though not before she smacked a wet, sloppy kiss on him. He waved them off with a smirk.

Later on, Sansa would never quite remember how she managed to get a thoroughly intoxicated Jeyne out of the car, into the residence hall, up the stairs, and into the bathroom, where Jeyne spent the better part of the evening and early morning emptying her stomach. Sansa patiently fed her bread and water until it was over, and then lugged the exhausted girl out of the bathroom and into her bed.

When Jeyne awoke at one o'clock the next afternoon, it was with a monster of a hangover. She groaned like a kraken from the deep and buried her face in her pillows.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," said Sansa, getting up to find the Aspirin. "How do you feel?"

Jeyne growled in response. "I can't even remember half of what happened."

"Weeeelllllll…" Sansa turned her computer screen towards Jeyne. "Fortunately for you, there are about a hundred instagrams and at least thirty vines to help you remember, including some from Renly Baratheon, Professor Dondarrion, Professor Thoros, and Theon."

Sometimes, Sansa couldn't help thinking as she watched Jeyne's eyes widen in horror, justice was sweet.


	3. Going Stag

The pounding on the door was so sudden and so loud that Jeyne screamed.

"It's just Arya," said Sansa irritably. She knew Arya's knock; she heard it whenever she took too long in the bathroom at home. Sansa opened the door and Arya came barreling in.

"Gendry's being an idiot!" the younger Stark bellowed by way of greeting.

Sansa and Jeyne exchanged knowing looks. No one wanted Gendry and Arya to get together more than Sansa and Jeyne; it could even be said that they wanted Gendry and Arya to get together more than Gendry and Arya did.

"Tell us all about it," Jeyne cooed encouragingly.

Arya kicked Sansa's bed. "I was just messing around. I asked if he had a hot date for the dance. And then he said he was going stag." She did not look amused. "So I said we could go together and he goes 'I thought you said a hot date.'"

"Ouch," muttered Sansa.

"So I punched him, obviously, and I told him that if he was so keen on having a hot date, I ought to go with Ned Dayne. And he asked me if I would be wearing the suit, then, since Ned is prettier than me. And I punched him again and I told him that if it bothered him so much I'd just go with Lommy or Hot Pie since they're nicer to me than Gendry is. And then he asked me what made me think they even wanted to go with me, and I told him the same thing that made him think a hot girl would want to go anywhere with him, and we yelled at each other for a while and then I punched him and now I'm here."

Sansa and Jeyne exchanged another knowing look.

"Well…did you want to go to the dance with him?" asked Sansa.

"I mean, you know…whatever," grumbled Arya. "I don't care. I just thought we could…I don't know. Geeze."

"Because it sounds like Gendry wants to go with you," said Jeyne.

"That's stupid, he told me he wanted a hot date."

"No, he just said you weren't hot," Sansa reminded her.

"And, well, dear, you aren't, exactly," said Jeyne. "Your hair is a rat's nest and your wardrobe looks like it belongs to a taller, heavier boy."

"But Gendry never said he didn't want to go with you," Sansa interrupted before Jeyne incited the Wrath of Arya.

Arya regarded them with narrow eyes. "What are you saying?"

"Gendry does want to go with you," said Sansa. "Why else would he get so upset when you talked about the other boys you could go with?"

Arya looked doubtful. "Well…I mean…he's just being stupid…isn't he?"

"Oh, you're in denial! How cute," Jeyne squealed.

"I am not!" Arya insisted. "I just…if he wanted to go with me, why would he be so mean?"

"You two are always mean to each other," Sansa pointed out. "And it's obvious you two want to go together. I think you should just tell him you're sorry and make up with him."

"I shouldn't have to apologize; he's the one who said I was ugly and not even Hot Pie would want to go with me!"

"Yes, I know," said Sansa with an air of maddening patience. "But you did hurt his feelings with all that talk of who else you wanted to go to the dance with. I'm sure if you apologized to him he would apologize for all the mean things he said to you and you would both feel a lot better."

"Why should I want to make him feel better?" Arya wanted to know.

Jeyne flipped a page of Maiden Fair Magazine with admirable nonchalance. "Well, of course, you don't have to. But I mean, if you would rather spend the entire evening with Ned instead of Gendry, well…"

Arya looked troubled. "I…I guess I could talk to him…"

"Do it!" urged Sansa.

"You should compliment him," said Jeyne. "Say something nice about his eyes or something."

"That's dumb, why would I do that?" Arya scoffed.

"Just trust me," insisted Jeyne.

Arya didn't seem entirely convinced. "Well…if you say so…"

"We'll be here if you need anything," said Sansa.

Arya wandered out of the dorm room with a frown on her face.

She found Gendry on the lawn, tossing a Frisbee with Hot Pie and Lommy. He was also missing a shirt. Arya liked when Gendry didn't wear a shirt. Not that she was going to tell him that. His face darkened at her approach, and he turned so that she was talking to his side. "Yeah?" he ground out, tossing the Frisbee to Hot Pie. Hot Pie fumbled to catch the disc and ended up falling over.

Arya took a deep breath. "I just…wanted to say that I'm sorry for what I said. And for punching you."

Gendry gave her a suspicious look. "Why are you apologizing?"

"Because it's polite," she snapped. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. "You, um…look like you've been working out."

Gendry scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she said quickly.

"What are you trying to say?" he demanded.

"I'm not trying to say anything!" she snapped.

"What's going on? First you say you're sorry, which you never do, and then you make some weirdly vague statement about working out?"

"You're being paranoid."

"I'm paranoid, am I?"

"Did I fucking stutter?"

Hot Pie and Lommy exchanged glances before sidling off as fast as possible.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"My problem?! I was just trying to be nice!"

"You're never nice; you're up to something."

"I was just trying to say I'm sorry, and you're supposed to say you're sorry too but you fucked it up!"

"I'm not sorry."

"WELL, YOU WILL BE!" Arya punched his stupid, well-toned abs and stormed off. She made to stomp to her dorm room and then remembered something. She stomped to Sansa and Jeyne's room instead, opened their door and bellowed, "THAT WAS STUPID ADVICE I'M NEVER LISTENING TO YOU AGAIN" before slamming the door and stomping to her room.

.

Gendry spent the rest of the weekend complaining to Hot Pie and Lommy. They thought they would get a break on Monday, when they had all their classes with Arya, but she wouldn't stop complaining, either.

Something had to be done.

For dinner on Monday, Hot Pie and Lommy sat Gendry down to have a talk.

"You need to apologize to Arya," said Lommy.

"I will not," snorted Gendry into his chicken.

"You told her that she wasn't hot. Girls don't like to be told that," explained Hot Pie helpfully.

"Well, she isn't," said Gendry.

"Yes, but you shouldn't say that," Hot Pie continued. "You're supposed to compliment them because it makes them feel better."

"Well Ned Dayne can compliment her as much as he wants," said Gendry sourly. "If she'd rather go with him, that's fine. I don't care."

"But Arya doesn't want to go with Ned Dayne. She wants to go with you, but then you told her she wasn't hot and that hurt her feelings," Hot Pie said, still maddeningly patient. "If you just told her you were sorry, she'd go with you."

"You should apologize," agreed Lommy.

Gendry considered them as he chewed his chicken. "I don't know…this sounds kind of…lame."

"Well, of course, you don't have to do it," said Hot Pie. "If you're okay with watching Arya dance with Ned Dayne all night then that's great, good for you."

Gendry got up and wordlessly stormed out of the cafeteria.

"He should apologize," said Lommy unhelpfully.

.

Gendry tracked down Arya in the library, where she was frowning over her biology book. Her frown only grew bigger when she saw him approaching. "What do you want?" she asked nastily.

He shifted from foot to foot. "I, um…I'm sorry I said…you know…all those things. And when you apologized and I—"

"Hey Arya, I found a book on photosynthesis!"

Gendry's jaw clenched as Ned Dayne appeared from behind a bookshelf.

"Oh, hi, Gendry!" Ned said cheerfully. "Arya and I are working on our biology homework together."

"Are you?" Gendry ground out.

"You were saying?" Arya prompted with a look of furious triumph.

Gendry scowled at both of them. "Nothing." He turned and stalked out of the library.

.

Gendry and Arya maintained a cold distance from one another over the next few days. Hot Pie and Lommy were torn between their two best friends; it rather felt, as Lommy said, like a divorce.

Sansa and Jeyne were just as upset; as their own love lives were so uneventful, they had counted dearly on Arya's, which was now nonexistent.  
Something had to be done.

On Thursday, three days after Gendry's failed apology and the beginning of his and Arya's Cold War, Sansa gathered Jeyne, Hot Pie, and Lommy in the godswood.

"We have to do something about Arya and Gendry," she said. "The dance is a week from Saturday and they don't look like they're going to make up on their own. We have to step in."

"Yeah, but what are we supposed to do?" asked Hot Pie. "Gendry will get pissed if we try to push him again, and she'll murder us if anyone tries to get her to talk to him."

"I know," said Sansa. "That's why we have to make it look like we aren't trying to get them to talk to each other." Seeing their confused faces, she continued, "It's like you said, Hot Pie; they'll never go along with it if they know that we're behind it. But if circumstances just happened to be arranged so that they were constantly running into each other…"

"Do go on," Jeyne said excitedly.

Sansa relayed her plan to them. When she was finished, the others agreed. Anything to get Arya and Gendry together.

.

Arya normally spent her Friday nights (and all of her spare time, really) with Gendry, Hot Pie, and Lommy; but as she and Gendry were feuding and Hot Pie and Lommy had meekly told her they were spending Friday night with him, she was left with nothing to do. Sansa and Jeyne had taken pity on her and invited her to hang out with them. Frankly, Arya had no interest whatsoever in painting her nails and watching romantic comedies and whatever else girly-girls did on their Friday nights, but she didn't exactly have a lot of options. It was either spend her Friday night alone and miserable, or endure whatever torture Sansa and Jeyne had in store. She chose the torture.

It wasn't actually as bad as she had anticipated; they spent a lot of time watching cat videos and song parodies and generally laughing.

Then Jeyne pulled up an online quiz.

"This tells you what kind of guy is your perfect match," said Jeyne excitedly. She had, unbeknownst to Arya, created this quiz herself and rigged it so that the answers Arya was bound to choose would give her a perfect match strikingly similar to Gendry.

"That sounds fun!" said Sansa with a little too much enthusiasm. "Can I try?"

"Sure!" Jeyne had also rigged it for Sansa, but Sansa didn't know that.

Arya frowned as Sansa answered questions about her favorite color, her dream job, the place she'd most like to live, and what her ideal date would be. Sansa clicked the "Submit Answers" button and grinned encouragingly at Arya.

Arya peered over her shoulder. "'Your perfect match may not be who you think it is. He's shy, but get him talking and you'll find out just how sweet and sensitive he is. If he hasn't approached you yet, be confident and make the first move. You'll both appreciate it in the long run.' That sounds a lot like Podrick."

"Yes," said Sansa, glaring at Jeyne. "It does."

"Why don't you have a turn, Arya?" asked Jeyne. "I've, um, already taken the quiz."

"I don't need to know my perfect match," Arya snorted.

"Oh, come on, it's fun!" wheedled Jeyne.

Arya gave a dramatic sigh and turned the laptop towards her. It was a dumb quiz; she answered all the questions and hit "Submit Answers" with a resigned air. Sansa read her results excitedly. "'Your perfect match is someone who is very close to you, someone you probably regard as a brother. You butt heads often, but you have more in common than you think. Try talking instead of arguing next time you interact and see how he reacts!' Arya, who does that sound like?" she finished, even more excited than before.

"I don't know. Theon?" Arya guessed in a bored tone.

"No!" exclaimed Sansa, stricken. "Think harder!"

"I don't know. Hot Pie?"

Sansa dropped her head in her hands.

.

Hot Pie and Lommy spent all of Saturday with Gendry, too, and Arya found herself once again agreeing to hang out with Sansa and Jeyne. They were going into town, at least, which was nice.

They lingered at a couple of dress shops, where Sansa and Jeyne tried thrusting dresses at Arya, but none of them interested her very much. Sansa seemed addicted to her phone, but Arya didn't think too much about it; maybe Podrick had finally worked up the nerve to talk to her. Arya didn't even think too much about it when Sansa suddenly insisted they go to the ice cream shop. She was always up for ice cream.

They pushed open the door…

…and saw Gendry, Hot Pie, and Lommy sitting in one of the booths.

"Oh, hello, boys! We didn't expect to see you here," said Sansa.

"Yeah, how completely bizarre and random," added Jeyne. Sansa elbowed her.

Arya was not as polite.

"What are you doing here?" she snarled at Gendry.

He scowled. "I'm eating ice cream, what the fuck does it look like I'm doing?"

Arya stormed out of the ice cream shop.

"You should apologize," said Lommy, slurping up his chocolate shake.

.

Sansa, Jeyne, Hot Pie, and Lommy were not to be discouraged, however. On Sunday, Hot Pie and Lommy coaxed Gendry outside to play Frisbee. Arya, Sansa, and Jeyne strolled by not ten minutes after they'd been out there. Gendry "accidentally" threw the Frisbee at Arya's head; she had to be restrained by all four of their friends.

On Monday, Arya woke up to find a folded piece of paper slipped underneath her door. It read:

"Roses are red  
Violets are blue  
The person I want to go to the dance with  
Is you"

When she came back to her dorm to drop off her books before dinner, she found another one.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?  
Thou art super hot  
You are a babe  
Please go to the dance with me"

Arya showed the notes to her roommate, Myrcella, in the hopes that a girly girl would be able to help her figure out who the hell was writing these, but Myrcella laughed so hard she snorted.

"I'm sorry, it's just…it's too funny!" she gasped, wiping a tear. "Are you sure Lommy didn't write it?"

Arya hoped it wasn't Lommy.

She got another note on Tuesday morning.

"A bear there was, a bear, a bear  
All black and brown and covered with hair  
I am not hairy like the bear  
But I need a maiden fair  
Please"

She tucked the note in her notebook for lack of a better place to put it (it wasn't every day she got love letters, even poorly written ones) and went down to breakfast. Part of her hoped—er, wondered if it was Gendry.

She was on her way to class when one of the Walder Freys knocked into her and sent her books scattering. He ran off before she could yell at him; sighing, she bent down and gathered up her books.

Gendry stood in front of her, looking both annoyed at seeing her and incredibly awkward. "You, um, dropped this."

She saw that it was the love letter and snatched it out of his hands, face turning red. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"So someone's writing you love letters," he said in a strained kind of voice.

She felt her heart sink. "You mean…it wasn't you?"

"Me? Gods, no, that poem sucks." He looked insulted she even thought it was him.

"Oh. Well, good," she scoffed. "I don't want to go with you anyway, so…don't waste your breath or anything."

"Well, I don't want to go with you either, so that's…great," he snapped, storming down the hallway.

Sansa, Jeyne, Hot Pie, and Lommy all let out groans from where they had been watching several feet away. "Great! We paid Walder for nothing!" Jeyne exclaimed.

Sansa had a determined look in her eyes. "Looks like it's time for Plan C."

.

The next day, Ned Dayne asked if Arya wanted to work on their biology homework together. She was in the middle of complaining about cellular mitosis versus cellular meiosis when Ned suddenly blurted, "Do you want to go to the dance with me?"

Arya stared at him in shock. "Have you been sending me love letters?"

"What?" He blinked, confused. "Uh, no."

"Oh." Arya felt awkward. "Well, then…yeah, okay." She thought about Gendry and how this would show him. "Yeah," she said again, confident. "Yeah, I'd love to go to the dance with you."

Gendry stormed out from behind a bookshelf. He opened his mouth, pointed to Ned, pointed to Arya, and pointed back to Ned before he closed his mouth and stormed out of the library.

Sansa and Jeyne, hidden behind another bookshelf, high-fived.

.

On Saturday night, the students of Westeros Academy crowded into the gymnasium for the annual end-of-year dance. Gendry was, as he had promised, going stag (if you don't think that's funny you can get out of his face okay). The idea was much less appealing when Lommy and Hot Pie also came stag.  
He didn't see Arya for a while. He wondered if Ned had broken their date—better yet, if Arya had broken it off with Ned and was sitting in her room right now. Half of him was contemplating finding her; he felt awful when he realized that if he had just apologized they could be friends or whatever they were and having a good time right now.

"Wow," said Hot Pie, munching on a cookie from the refreshment table. "Arya looks really good tonight."

Gendry snapped his head around to look where Hot Pie was staring.

Arya did look really good tonight. A strapless black dress revealed the body she so often hid under too-large t-shirts and baggy jeans, and it looked as if her sister had gotten hold of her hair. She was even wearing a little bit of makeup.

And she was dancing with Ned Dayne.

"You should've apologized," said Lommy solemnly.

Gendry stormed over to the couple and yanked Ned by the scruff of his neck.

"Find something else to do," he growled, releasing Ned.

The younger boy didn't need to be told twice; he scrambled away as fast as his legs would carry him.

"What the hell was that for?!" Arya snapped. "He didn't do anything to you!"

"You look hot tonight!" Gendry snapped back at her.

"I know I do!" Arya snapped in retaliation. She regarded him for a moment before reaching down to pull off her shoes. "To be honest, I don't like it."

"It's not you," Gendry agreed.

Arya smiled up at him. "Do you want to get out of here? Watch a movie, order pizza."

Gendry smiled down at her. "That sounds great, actually." He held up his fist and she bumped it.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

They turned to see Sansa, Jeyne, Hot Pie, and Lommy all gaping at them.

"AFTER ALL THAT WORK, YOU FIST-BUMP?!" Jeyne said furiously. "WHERE'S THE KISS?!"

Arya and Gendry made faces.

"Ugh, why would we do that?" Arya wanted to know.

Jeyne nearly tore out her hair in frustration.

"We're going to watch a movie, though, if you want to join us," said Gendry.

And that was how Gendry, Arya, Sansa, Jeyne, Hot Pie, and Lommy ended up sprawled on Sansa and Jeyne's beds and the floor, high heels kicked to the side and ties and jackets flung on the beds as they gorged on pizza and made fun of the horror movie they found on Netflix.

.

Later, much later, Sansa curled up on her own bed, still in her blue dress and ready to pass out. She glanced one last time at Arya, whose head had rolled comfortably onto Gendry's shoulder. Sansa smiled and closed her eyes.


	4. The School Remembers

Sansa winced as the thick, creamy substance oozed its way over her head, down her neck and into her uniform.

"What's the matter, Sansa? Don't you like milkshakes?" Joffrey taunted.

She didn't say anything; just waited for him to have his laugh and then leave her alone.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" he demanded.

"Maybe she's brain-freezed," Lancel joked.

Sansa stared at her shoes as strawberry milkshake dripped onto the floor.

"Or she's just too stupid," scoffed Joffrey. "Come on, let's go to class."

The blond boys sauntered off, leaving Sansa in a puddle. She wiped at the milkshake threatening to drip into her eyes and started walking to her dorm. Milkshake rolled off her and left her feeling sticky and disgusting. The late bell clanged and a few last-minute stragglers dashed to their classrooms, too busy to notice the strawberry milkshake monstrosity. She knew the absence would count against her, but she was too embarrassed to go to class and ask to leave. She would explain it to her father and he would tell her teachers to excuse her.

It wasn't the first time she'd had to miss class because of Joffrey, nor would it be the last. He liked to surprise her in the halls every so often with his Lannister cousins or the Freys backing him up. Sansa always waited patiently for it to end; Joffrey wanted her to struggle or fight back or say something, but she never did. It was a small victory.

Sansa began peeling off her clothes the minute she unlocked the door. She took a long, hot shower and scrubbed at her hair and her skin; even when the milkshake was long gone down the drain, she scrubbed until her skin was raw. She wrapped herself in her comfiest pajamas and curled up in bed.

The door banged open an hour later.

"I AM GOING TO KILL JOFFREY," Arya Stark howled, tearing off a banana peel and hurling it into the trashcan.

"What did he do?" Sansa asked, sitting up.

"He got Big Walder and Little Walder to throw me in the dumpster!" Arya was indeed grimier than usual. Something registered with her. "Why are you in bed?"

"Joffrey poured a milkshake on me," Sansa said miserably.

Arya looked even angrier than before. "Why won't he leave you alone? He's the one who dumped you!"

"He knows I won't put up a fight." Sansa wrapped her arms around her knees. "I'm an easy target."

"Why won't you put up a fight?" Arya wanted to know. "He's not your boyfriend anymore, you don't owe him anything."

"It's not worth it," Sansa insisted hollowly. "Besides, he'd just get mad."

"So?" Arya swatted a straw wrapper out of her hair. "Even if he gets pissy, wouldn't it be worth it to see him suffer for once? Just one time where Joffrey felt like shit. Because I'd let the Freys throw me into the dumpster every day if I could remember that one time."

"You would not," Sansa scoffed.

"Well, no," conceded Arya. "But you get what I mean."

Sansa did. Every moment of unhappiness for Joffrey was a hundred moments of happiness for Sansa. He would be furious if she ever stood up to him…and yet…

"What did you have in mind?" she asked.

Arya smirked. "Let me take a shower and I'll tell you."

.

Their plan relied heavily on the staff of Westeros Academy.

Luckily for the Stark girls, every single member of the staff hated Joffrey Baratheon.

"Now, girls, this isn't strictly legal," Petyr Baelish, the school's secretary, mock-scolded. "So if anyone finds out I let you into the computers…"

"We'll say we hacked our way in and you had nothing to do with it," Arya said smoothly. "We got this, Littlefinger."

"I'm sure you do." And with one of those creepy-overly-friendly-and-just-the-slightest-bit-sexual-predator smiles, he returned to the main office.

Sansa stared at the computer screen, her fingers trembling over the keys. "This is wrong…not just on a moral level, I mean, but we could actually get in serious trouble for this…"

"Go on, Sansa!" Arya said impatiently. "Think how many times that douchecanoe copied your homework and made you help him cheat on his tests. Those grades are your hard work. And besides, it's not like he'll find out. He thinks you're too stupid to do anything like this."

Sansa felt something within her snap. "'Dear Mr. Baratheon,'" she said in a professional voice, deleting his straight As. "'We are sorry to inform you that you did not make the dean's list this semester. We recommend seeking out tutelage.'"

"D is for douchecanoe," sang Arya.

.

It was less than a week later that Arya, on her way back from her weekly anger therapy session with the school guidance counselor, Melisandre, saw Cersei Lannister-Baratheon gliding to the office in a majestic fury. Arya followed her swift as a deer, quiet as a shadow, and pressed her ear to the office door moments after the woman had slammed it.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN JOFFREY'S GPA IS IN DANGER?!" she shrieked.

"Mrs. Baratheon, perhaps if Joffrey invested in a tutor—"

"ARE YOU SUGGESTING MY SON IS INCOMPETENT?!"

Arya tore down the hallway, swift as a snake, to tell Sansa the news.

.

Changing Joffrey's grades was only the tip of the iceberg.

His instructors had somehow all agreed that Joffrey's grades were accurate, and agreed on a negotiation with Cersei. Joffrey maintained a B-C average and yelled at Lancel for giving him the wrong answers on tests, and then everything was back to normal.

That wasn't good enough for the Stark girls.

"It has to be something really big, something in his face," said Sansa, pacing up and down her room. "We need to make him uncomfortable."

"We could sneak into his room when he's not there and trash the place," suggested Arya. "It's not like he has a roommate we'd be bothering."

Joffrey had a whole dorm room to himself—his mother insisted he needed his personal space and his grandfather didn't mind pulling a few strings to see it done.

"He locks the door when he leaves," Sansa reminded her.

Arya's lips curled into a smirk. "I know a way around that."

.

It was a good thing the staff hated Joffrey almost as much as the Stark girls, or else their plan never would have succeeded.

Renly Baratheon put Joffrey in detention after catching him kicking poor Samwell Tarly. Joffrey gave his uncle an earful about what his grandfather would say, but the T.A. merely put in his earbuds and turned the volume all the way up.

It was Davos Seaworth who let them into Joffrey's dorm room; the janitor had always liked Arya and hated Joffrey more than most of the staff.

When Joffrey returned from detention, his dorm room was in shambles. His drawers had been flung open, their contents strewn all over the floor. His trophies were broken, his sheets twisted into the shape of a noose and hanging from the ceiling.

And scrawled in red lipstick on his mirror were the words The School Remembers.

.

No one ever found out who did it, and frankly, none of the staff members cared enough to put effort into finding out. Joffrey and his mother complained, but finally Tywin had to tell them to please stop carrying on, there were three hundred other students in the school okay thank you.

In fact, the three hundred other students in the school couldn't stop talking about it. No one liked Joffrey but everyone pretended to; it was easier than letting the Lannisters and the Freys beat them into submission. The idea that anyone could scare Joffrey Baratheon gave the students a new sense of hope.

It was, to Arya's great surprise and pride, Sansa who suggested the third and final act of rebellion.

"It won't be easy," said the older Stark. "We'll need help."

Arya smirked. "That won't be a problem. Leave it to me, sister dear."

.

It was a good thing Sansa and Arya were friends with the Hound, or else they never would've gotten away with it.

In the middle of the night, several figures all in black scurried all over campus. The Hound turned his back, and when the light of dawn broke, he saw what they had done and he laughed.

.

Joffrey was on his way to the cafeteria when the three Tyrell girls burst into laughter behind him. He turned around to glare at the brats and saw that they were laughing at him.  
"Why are you laughing?" he demanded.

Alla's eyes went wide. "Oh, n-no reason."

"You're laughing at something," he insisted.

Elinor's lips twitched. "Have you been outside today?"

Megga burst into a peal of laughter and quickly clapped a hand over her mouth.

Joffrey stormed outside, determined to see what all the fuss was about. A crowd was gathered in front of the main building, people pointing and laughing.

When he saw what they were laughing at, he nearly shit his pants.

Posters of his face were plastered everywhere, and underneath, in large print, were the words "INCEST IS A SERIOUS PROBLEM. IF YOU'RE RELATED, DON'T HAVE RELATIONS!"

And that wasn't even the worst part.

His car was parked on top of the building, and underneath, a huge white sheet hung on the wall. Scrawled in familiar red handwriting were the words The School Remembers.

"There he is!" Hot Pie shouted. Someone—he thought it was his bastard half-brother, Gendry—started to slow clap. Everyone joined in until they were laughing and jeering at him. Him, Joffrey Baratheon.

He really did shit his pants then.

Sansa and Arya laughed until their stomachs hurt.


	5. 5 Times Sansa Stark Walked in on Family

The first time it happened, Sansa was nearly scarred for life.

She'd come home for the weekend, enjoying the house when all but one of her siblings were at the academy. She'd slept in and then made breakfast for Rickon, who had been up since seven o'clock watching Dragon Tales. It was nearly twelve when she decided to wake her parents. That should've been her first clue; Ned and Catelyn Stark were nothing if not early risers.

She pushed open their bedroom door, expecting to find them catching up on sleep—and found that they were decidedly not asleep.

"Sansa!" her father yelped, rolling off Catelyn (oh, ew) and yanking the bedcovers up to their necks.

"Ew!" Sansa exclaimed, slapping a hand over her eyes. "Lock your door, for the Maiden's sake!"

"You could knock," her mother said sternly. Well, as stern as one could be when caught in flagrante delicto.

"You could be normal and not humiliate me!" Sansa shrieked before slamming the door and running to her room.

.

The second time was no less traumatizing.

It was the end-of-year bonfire, and it was that time of the night when the teachers trickled off to their beds and the students felt brave enough to crack open the alcohol they'd snuck in. Sansa knew that Tywin Lannister and campus security would come out soon to break up the festivities—it happened every year. Many of the younger students had gone to bed and the smart ones who didn't want to get caught when the headmaster made his appearance. Sansa wanted to join them but she couldn't find Jeyne Poole—big surprise there.

She wandered in the godswood, calling for her roommate. Knowing Jeyne, she was probably trying to do something daring to impress whatever group of boys were watching. Sansa could hear other people moving around in the godswood—some laughing, some singing, some simply trying to make their way back.

"Jeyne?" she shouted, but none of the passing specters acknowledged her. "Jeyne!"

"Yes?"

Sansa turned her lit-up cellphone to where she had heard the voice—and found her brother sprawled on top of Jeyne Westerling.

Sansa let out a small scream and whipped her head away so fast that something popped. "I meant Jeyne Poole and what are you doing?! In public, Robb?!"

"Well, the thing about it is…"

Sansa didn't wait for an explanation; she ran away as quickly as possible.

She found out later that Robb and Jeyne had gotten caught by campus security.

It was a small comfort.

.

By the third time it happened, Sansa wasn't even surprised.

The Stark household was always crowded during the summer. The Stark children and Theon always had their friends and significant others over, playing video games or watching movies or bouncing on the trampoline or playing with the family's pack of dogs or shimmying up to the tree house.

It was one of these loud and chaotic days when Catelyn, shouting over the noise of Arya, Gendry, Hot Pie, and Lommy's awful garage band, asked Sansa to find Jon and tell him lunch was ready.

Sansa peeked in the boys' room, where Theon suggested trying the tree house. Ned and Robert had built it for the boys years ago, and it was a wonder it hadn't collapsed after everything they'd put the poor thing through. She picked her way outside, carefully avoiding Rickon wrestling with Shaggy Dog, and shouted up the oak tree for Jon. When there was no answer, she climbed up the rungs to see if he was really up there and if he had heard her over the flailing sounds of Arya on guitar.

Jon was up there, all right—but it was no wonder he hadn't heard with his head firmly tucked between Ygritte's legs.

"What is it with this family?!" Sansa shouted, climbing down the ladder in a fury.

.

She really wished the fourth time hadn't happened.

The car had been parked outside the Stark house for half an hour now, and it was starting to creep Sansa out. Her parents were having a rare date night, Robb, Jon, and Theon were at some party, and Arya had snuck out after their parents left to hang out at Gendry's. That left Bran and Rickon under Sansa's supervision—one in a wheelchair and the other too young and too wild to be of any use in a fight (if it came to that). Hodor and his grandmother were always next door in case of emergencies, but Sansa was sure they were asleep by now.

Sansa took Lady and Nymeria outside under the pretence of letting them do their business; really, she just felt safer peeking at the car if she had two enormous dogs with her. She crept closer and saw movement through the open window in the car. Nymeria whined. Sansa crept closer still…

And screamed when she realized she was watching Arya and Gendry making out.

The pair unglued themselves as Lady and Nymeria began howling.

"Sansa?" Arya yelped, face turning pale.

"Where is your shirt?!" Sansa exclaimed.

Arya looked down, realized her shirt was indeed missing, and turned to Gendry. "DRIVE, GENDRY!"

The car started and shot down the street so fast it looked like it was warping into hyperspace.

.

The fifth time was just upsetting.

Jojen Reed came over to play video games with Bran, though not before having a lively conversation with Catelyn about the importance of organic food. They disappeared into Bran's room, away from the clamor of the Stark-Snowjoy collective (as Ygritte wittily called their family) and were in there until Catelyn asked Sansa to bring them some of the ice cream she'd doled out for the rest of the family.

Sansa didn't even knock, just pushed open the door.

And immediately regretted it.

Bran—her baby brother, Bran—was sitting on the bed, with Jojen's hands in his hair and his mouth on his mouth. They yanked apart when they realized Sansa was staring at them.

"I didn't know you liked boys!" she blurted. They were going to have a lot to talk about later.

Bran looked dazed. "I didn't, either," he admitted.

Sansa left the ice cream on the dresser and fled.

.

When it happens to Sansa, it's not even fair.

School starts up again and Podrick Payne manages to stop stuttering long enough to ask Sansa out. Several successful dates go by, and Podrick nearly chokes on his own tongue trying to ask Sansa to be his girlfriend.

The first dance of the year comes around and Podrick admits that he doesn't know how to dance. Sansa invites him to come practice at her house on a weekend when Ned takes her, Arya, and Bran home. Robb, Jon, and Theon are also home for their fall break, which means Jeyne Westerling and Ygritte will be over, and Gendry and Jojen mentioned coming over later, and Sansa really should have thought this out better.

Sure enough, by the time Podrick pulls up, the Stark house is practically shaking with activity. Catelyn, seeing the terrified look on Podrick's face when the dogs bark their greetings at him, takes Ned and Rickon to the store. Robb, Jeyne Westerling, Jon, Ygritte, and Theon disappear to the basement to talk about whatever college kids talk about, and Arya, Gendry, Bran, and Jojen hole up in Bran's room to play video games. This leaves the living room for Sansa and Podrick. She takes him through some simple moves, and then works her way to more complex ones. He stumbles and he's far from graceful, but she thinks it's sweet. He's twirling her when something goes awry; his foot slips and he loses his balance and suddenly he's tumbling into her. She lets out a shriek as they fall to the ground, he accidentally pinning her beneath him.

"I'm so sorry, I'm such a clutz," Pod says at once, but Sansa laughs.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asks fondly.

He doesn't get a chance to answer her, because just then Arya, Gendry, Bran, and Jojen spill out of Bran's room, and Robb, Jeyne, Jon, Ygritte, and Theon come rushing up from the basement, asking what's wrong. They all freeze at the sight of the pair intertwined on the ground. Sansa thinks she's going to die of humiliation, but then her parents come in from the garage with Rickon and she knows she's going to die.

"Sansa? What's going on?" her father asks.

"We were, um, dancing," Sansa says lamely as Podrick scrambles off of her.

"I know that dance," Ygritte says brazenly.

Robb, Jon, and Theon all exchange a look.

"That's our baby sister," Robb says seriously.

"Oh, don't," Sansa begs, but it's too late; the boys move for Podrick and he shoots out of the backdoor. Gendry, Rickon, and the dogs join the chase, with Sansa in the back screaming that they're spoiling everything.

"At least we know they'll lock the door," Ygritte sniggers.


	6. Women Don't Have Prostates

Hot Pie was always kind of weird. Everyone knew it.

But he was acting really weird now. Even for Hot Pie.

"What do you mean you can't come to practice?" Arya demanded.

"I just can't," Hot Pie said helplessly.

"Battle of the Bands is in two weeks and we suck," she said angrily. "And you just can't come to practice."

"I'm really sorry, Arya!" he wailed. "I have a thing! A really important thing!"

"More important than your friends?" she demanded.

Hot Pie started crying. Arya hated when he cried, so she kicked him and stormed off.

.

"Where's Hot Pie?" Gendry wanted to know when Lommy walked in the movie theater, dripping wet.

"I don't know!" Lommy said moodily. His converses were squelching when he walked. "He texted me five minutes ago and said something came up. What, I ask you, could be more important than The Others 2?!"

"He would just cry through the whole thing anyway," Arya dismissed.

That didn't mean she wasn't pissed off and didn't kick Hot Pie the next time she saw him.

.

Hot Pie got even weirder.

He didn't show up for several more band practices, and when they talked about going to the mall one Saturday, he said he couldn't because he had homework.

"You never do your homework," Arya pointed out.

"You don't know that," he said with great indignation.

"Okay, so let me copy your answers."

He blanched. "I, um…don't believe in working the system."

"Our song for Battle of the Bands is about opposing the system you moron."

Hot Pie started to cry again.

.

"What do you think is going on?" Arya asked when they met for band practice and Hot Pie had another last-minute cancellation.

"He told me he had to help his mom after she got surgery," said Lommy.

Gendry frowned. "What surgery?"

"On her prostate. It was enlarged," Lommy explained.

Arya and Gendry exchanged looks.

"Lommy, women don't have prostates," Gendry said.

Lommy's mouth fell open.

"Well, Hot Pie's officially up to something," decided Arya.

"Something he doesn't want us to know about," added Gendry.

"But it's Hot Pie. What deep, dark secret would he want to keep from us?" Arya wanted to know.

Lommy's face twisted. "Maybe he's sick or something." When the other two stared at him, he said, "My aunt had cancer and she didn't want anybody to know, so she just told everyone she had conferences and stuff."

"Oh my god." Arya put her head in her hands. "Hot Pie is dying."

"I'm sure he's fine," said Gendry, but it was obvious he didn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth. "We'll just corner him and make him tell us."

.

This was easier said than done.

Hot Pie seemed to know a confrontation was coming because they never saw him outside of class. Even would-be innocent attempts to lure him to dinner or Gendry or Arya's dorm failed.

"You're his roommate; haven't you noticed where he goes?" Arya demanded of Lommy.

He shrugged helplessly. "He's out the door before I wake up and he doesn't come back until really late."

Arya kicked him in frustration.

.

It was Bran who told them that Hot Pie spent every afternoon in the godswood. Arya didn't even let him finish, just stormed off to find her friend.

They found Hot Pie, all right—kissing Myrcella Baratheon.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Arya screeched.

The two sprang apart, blushing furiously.

"We thought you had cancer, you asshole!" Gendry bellowed. He paused. "But, uh, way to go."

"Please don't tell anyone," begged Myrcella. "We didn't want Joffrey to find out."

"Yeah, but we wouldn't have told anyone," said Lommy.

"We didn't want to take any chances," insisted Myrcella.

Arya frowned. "I don't understand how I didn't know my roommate and one of my best friends were sneaking around."

"For the same reason you didn't figure out that Dumbledore was gay," pointed out Gendry.

"I WAS PRETTY POSITIVE HE AND MCGONAGALL WERE GETTING IT."

"What even made you two want to date each other?" Gendry wanted to know.

Hot Pie and Myrcella exchanged sappy looks. "We love to bake."

Arya wanted to throw up.


	7. Monster Mash

SANSA  
.

"Girls!" Catelyn shouted up the stairs. "The guests will be here any minute!"

"We're almost ready!" Sansa shouted back down. She reached up to fix the bow in her hair, but Jeyne smacked her hand away.

"You look fine, stop fidgeting."

"You look adorable," corrected the other Jeyne. "So do you, Gilly."

Gilly flushed at the praise, clearly unsure of how to accept it. "You look amazing," she said. "I wish I could, you know, pull something like that off."

"I do look good, don't I?" Jeyne Westerling said excitedly. Her Jasmine costume showed off her toned stomach and a generous amount of cleavage. "I thought about going as Pocahontas, but when Robb said he wouldn't go as a prince, I decided to make him regret it."

"What's he going as again?" Jeyne Poole asked, pulling up her gloves.

"A zombie," Jeyne sighed.

"How original," Sansa said, rolling her eyes.

"How did you convince Pod to come as a prince?"

Sansa blushed. "I didn't convince him," she insisted. "I just told him that we were going as Disney princesses and he said he would be Prince Eric to match me."

"Keep him," Gilly commanded.

Someone hammered on the door.

"We'll be there in a minute!" Sansa shouted.

The hammering persisted and Jeyne Westerling threw open the door. Robb, in full zombie getup, reached for her. "We've come for your braaaaains."

Jeyne smacked his hands away. "Ruin this costume and you really will be the walking dead."

Theon appeared, hooting with laughter. "Jeyne made a funny."

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" she wanted to know, indicating his spray tan and fake six-pack.

"I'm the situation," Theon replied in a poor attempt at a Jersey accent.

All of the girls groaned and shoved the two boys out, locking the door behind them.

"I'm not gonna lie, though," said Jeyne Poole. "He could give me a situation anytime he wanted to, if you know what I mean."

"I do, unfortunately," snapped Sansa. "That's my brother you're talking about."

Jeyne didn't seem to care.

Satisfied with their costumes, the girls finally descended the stairs. Catelyn was milling about in her Queen Elinor costume, arranging the Halloween treats and smacking away Robb and Theon's hands whenever they reached for one. Bran, Jojen, and Meera sat in a corner, their masks pushed up on top of their heads as they discussed the commercialization of Halloween (Sansa didn't think it prudent to point out that they were dressed as characters from a Halloween movie). They could hear Jon and co. in the basement, laughing loudly at what sounded like a game of Mario Kart.

"Where's Aemon?" Gilly asked.

"Ned has him; putting him in his little mouse costume, it's so adorable."

As if on cue, Ned strolled out of the kitchen with the toddler in his arms. Aemon was indeed dressed as one of the singing mice from Cinderella to match his mother, and Ned was dressed as King Triton, complete with a tail, no shirt, and a flowing white beard. Sansa didn't know whether to be proud or humiliated.

Jeyne Poole wolf-whistled. "Looking good, Mr. Stark!"

Sansa wanted to die, but the other girls voiced their agreement.

"My dad would never put that much effort into a costume," Jeyne Westerling complimented.

"Well, he is my favorite," Ned said with an absurd kind of pride, handing Aemon to his mother. "But you girls look stunning!"

Jeyne Poole twirled. "I never pass up the opportunity to be a princess. It's too bad some people," she said with a pointed raising of the voice, "don't care about the theme!"

"Hey, at least we're still Disney affiliated!" Bran retorted. "Robb and Theon aren't, and neither is Jon or his friends, or Arya and her friends, or Rickon—"

The doorbell rang, sparing Bran from anymore lamentations over his family. Sansa handed out candy to the group of trick-or-treaters and was about to close the door when she saw Podrick walking up the drive. They both blushed upon recognizing each other, and Sansa was glad her back was to the living room so her family couldn't see her.

"You look handsome," she said when he had drawn level with her. And he did; Prince Eric's white tunic suited him, as did the red sash around his waist. And Pod really did look good in boots.

"So do you," he blurted. "I mean, not handsome, but you look nice too. You look really pretty. I mean, you always look really pretty, but tonight you're a princess, and, um."

"You're sweet," she told him, squeezing his hand. "Come inside, the party's just starting."

The girls all exclaimed over Podrick when he entered, much to Robb and Theon's dismay.

"I just think it's really sweet," said Jeyne Westerling, smirking at her boyfriend, "that you were willing to dress up as a prince for Sansa. If only more boys were like you."  
Robb stormed moodily down the basement stairs.

Catelyn snapped a picture of Sansa and Podrick and then insisted on getting one with them and Ned. Sansa was spared further embarrassment when the doorbell rang again, this time revealing Edric Storm and Edric Dayne dressed as a pair of Siamese twins.

"I'm Edric!" said Edric Storm.

"And I'm also Edric!" said Edric Dayne.

Almost everyone in the room groaned. This was how the two Edrics introduced themselves to each other literally every single time they met someone new.

"How cute!" exclaimed Catelyn, who had clearly never heard their little routine before. "And Siamese twins, how clever!"

"Don't encourage them, Mrs. Stark," Jeyne Poole warned.

They heard a thundering from the basement, and when they looked up they saw Robb and Theon leading Jon, Ygritte, Sam, Pyp, and Grenn up the stairs. They were dressed as various members of the Watchmen, much to almost everyone's disdain.

"You look beautiful, Gilly," Sam said with a blush, as if they hadn't been dating for almost two years.

"Thank you, Sam," she returned with a blush of her own. "You look very…dashing."

"That's one word for it," Pyp sniggered.

"Look at you, girl!" said Ygritte, bumping hips with Jeyne Westerling. "Aw, Robb, you should've gone as Aladdin, you could've taken your shirt off."

"I am not dressing up like a Disney prince," he said flatly.

"He's also not getting laid tonight," Jeyne Westerling sang under her breath.

The other guests began to trickle in, and soon the house was full of "The Monster Mash" and "Thriller" and people talking and laughing. Robert arrived dressed as Captain Kirk and had somehow conned Stannis into dressing as Spock; Shireen and Selyse, following the Disney theme, had come as Rapunzel and Mother Gothel; the Seaworth brood was dressed as Ghostbusters; Melisandre, Thoros, and Beric Dondarrion arrived as pirates ("He can play with my stranger tides, if you know what I mean," said Jeyne Poole, effectively grossing Sansa out for the rest of the night), Edmure and Roslin swept in as fish and chips, Asha Greyjoy arrived in full Viking gear, Jaime and Brienne came as Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman, Loras and Renly arrived as Bert and Ernie, and Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand showed up as a '20s mobster and a flapper. Even Hodor made a brief appearance, pleased with the Frankenstein's monster costume his grandmother had made him.

Arya, Rickon, Gendry, Hot Pie, and Lommy arrived about halfway through the party, bags laden down with the evidence of their trick-or-treating. Arya and her friends had chosen to go as Justice League characters (mostly because she wanted to be Batman dammit); Gendry was rocking the Superman costume while Hot Pie was the Green Lantern and Lommy sported an Aquaman costume.

Rickon had gone with a simpler costume idea and had demanded to be a werewolf. He ran around the guests, sniffing them and howling. Ned tried to move him to a different room, but the guests (mostly female) insisted that it was cute and couldn't he please stay, Mr. Stark, he wasn't hurting anyone.

"Well, what do you think?" Sansa asked anxiously.

Podrick smiled. "I like it. Everyone's having a great time."

"Are you having a great time?" she wanted to know.

Podrick squeezed her hand. "I'm with you. Of course I'm having a great time."

Sansa beamed.

That was when the trouble started.

.  
CATELYN  
.

"I'm always happy to have guests, but did we have to invite Oberyn and Ellaria?" she complained.

"Now, Cat, Oberyn is a good friend, and Ellaria can be very sweet," Ned placated.

"She's certainly been sweet on you tonight," Catelyn muttered over the rim of her Solo cup. The punch tasted a little strong and she was fairly certain Theon had dumped Everclear in the punchbowl. Good, she thought, watching Ellaria Sand. The Dornish woman already had the attention of every unattached male in the room, but Catelyn couldn't help noticing she kept flirting with Ned. She was going to need to be a lot drunker before the night was over.

"What?" Ned looked stunned. "Ellaria? But she's with Oberyn, and she knows we're married with kids…are you sure—"

"I know what flirting women look like," Catelyn snapped. "I've done it once or twice in my life, believe it or not." There was a lot of Everclear in this punch.

Ned held up his hands defensively. "It just seems unlikely, is all. You know, she and Oberyn are naturally flirtatious; she probably doesn't even realize she's doing it."

Catelyn snorted into her cup.

Robert swept Ned away not long after, leaving Catelyn to brood. Edmure and Roslin stumbled over, laughing as Edmure's feet got caught in his fin. "Why the long face, sis?"

"Women keep hitting on my husband," she complained. "I'm right here!"

Edmure repressed a belch. "Do you want Roslin to beat them up?" At Roslin's incredulous face, he shrugged. "I have an ethical problem with hitting women."

"It's fine," said Catelyn, "I just—look, she's doing it again!"

Edmure and Roslin looked to where Ellaria was laughing at something Ned had just said. That's how Catelyn knew it was flirting; Ned wasn't funny.

"Roslin, kick her ass," Edmure commanded before tripping over his fin again. A giggling Roslin helped him to his feet and dragged him over to the couch.

Catelyn was less amused. She downed the rest of her punch and stormed towards Ellaria. "Just what do you think you're doing?" she growled.

Ellaria had the audacity to look surprised. "What are you talking about?"

"Stay away from my husband," Catelyn snapped.

Ellaria raised a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow. "Why, are you afraid he'll swim away from you?"

Catelyn turned red. "Ellaria, I'm warning you…"

"And I'm very threatened, but I'd prefer not to make a scene," the other woman said.

"Well, that's too bad," said Catelyn, and she punched Ellaria in the face.

.  
THEON  
.

Theon had indeed spiked the punch.

Don't get him wrong, the Stark family Halloween parties were always fun. But he was in college now, basically an adult. The best parties, in his opinion, were the ones where everyone got the drunkest.

And he was right: everyone seemed to be having a great time. Robb and Jeyne Westerling were having a very intense discussion that Theon felt sure meant his adoptive brother was going to get some action tonight, Melisandre was cracking up at something Thoros said, Jaime was lounging in Brienne's arms, and even Stannis looked like he was enjoying himself.

The best part, though, was when Jeyne Poole flounced over to him in her Belle dress. "I tried to think of a Situation pun but I couldn't, let's just make out."

It was probably morally wrong to make out with a drunk sixteen-year-old, but no one ever said Theon had morals.

.  
BRAN  
.

"I'm bored," declared Jojen. Meera had left them a while ago in favor of Asha Greyjoy, and it was just the two boys in the same corner as before.

"We could go see the dogs," suggested Bran. "They're all in the garage since Shireen is allergic."

"We could do that," agreed Jojen. "But I was thinking something a little more private."

Bran glanced around nervously. "Here? Now?"

"It's Halloween, Bran; this is a holiday that makes its money off horny teenagers," laughed the older boy. "No one will think twice if we go to your room and 'play video games' for a while."

Bran considered it. His boyfriend was right; they spent hours in his room all the time, decidedly not playing video games, and no one suspected a thing.

"Just for a few minutes," Jojen wheedled.

"Well, I guess a few minutes won't hurt," Bran relented.

Jojen grinned and wheeled Bran to his bedroom.

.  
ARYA  
.

Meanwhile, Arya had been getting steadily drunker, both on the punch and the gin that Gendry had stolen from his father's extensive liquor cabinet.

And a drunk Arya was an angry one.

"Fuck them," she said from where she was reclining on the trampoline.

"Who?" a not-very-sober-either Gendry wanted to know.

"Y'know, Jon an' them," she slurred. "They're such fucking douchebags. Who the fuck dresses as the Watchmen for Halloween?"

"We're dressed like the Justice League," Lommy pointed out, bouncing a little. Gendry reached over to smack him.

"Yeah, but that's different," she insisted. "The Justice League is classic. The Watchmen aren't even real superheroes, okay?"

"They are superheroes, though," Hot Pie belched.

"They're a commentary on superheroes," Arya explained in a long-suffering manner. "It's just the kind of pretentious college thing they would do."

"Don't worry about it," Gendry tried to say, but the backdoor opened and the Watchmen in question poured out into the backyard.

"Thought I saw you sneak out here," Jon said, stumbling off the patio.

"What do you want?" Arya demanded, trying to stand up. But she was drunk and on a trampoline and just ended up sprawling over Gendry's lap.

Pyp held up his hands defensively. "We just wanted some fresh air."

"Your costumes are cute," Grenn said. "Who are you, the Stupid Friends?"

Arya jumped off the trampoline. "We're the Justice League, you stupid piece of lint!"

"Arya," Gendry warned, edging off the trampoline.

"I'm not a piece of lint, Batgirl," Grenn complained.

"I AM NOT BATGIRL!" Arya screeched. "I'm Batman!"

"Well, that's stupid," Grenn snorted. "Batman isn't a girl."

Everyone sucked in a breath as they watched Arya's face turn purple.

"JUSTICE LEAGUE!" she shrieked. "ATTACK!"

.  
SANSA  
.

It all happened at once.

Ned let out a shout, and everyone turned to see Catelyn swing at Ellaria Sand and send her reeling into Edmure and Roslin's laps.

"Mother!" Sansa exclaimed, but Rickon burst into the living room before anything else could happen. He took a deep breath and shouted, "ARYA AND ALL THEM ARE FIGHTING JON AND ALL THEM!"

"Oh, seven hells," Sansa groaned, joining the throng of partygoers stampeding to the backyard.

It was just as embarrassing as Sansa feared.

Pyp and Grenn were wrestling with Gendry, Ygritte had Hot Pie in a stranglehold, Lommy was kicking a curled-up Sam, and Arya was on Jon's back, raining punches all over his head.

"Stop it!" Sansa screamed. "You're spoiling everything!"

Robert was booming with laughter. "That's my boy!" he roared.

"Mr. Baratheon, please!" Sansa complained. Robert sighed and joined Stannis, Renly, and Loras in extricating the fighting teenagers—but not before Lommy heaved up the contents of his stomach.

A shout came from inside the house and Sansa ran to see what else was the matter.

Ned was standing at the doorway to Bran's room, a hand slapped over his eyes. The definitive smell of weed filled the room, and upon peering around her father, Sansa saw Bran and Jojen, neither of whom were wearing shirts but were wearing guilty expressions.

"I, ah, didn't know you, ah, felt that way, Bran," Ned was babbling. "I, ah, your mother and I—gods bless her—are…very proud of you, of course, and we support you in, you know, well, everything."

"Thanks, Dad," Bran said miserably.

Sansa heard giggling behind her and turned to see Jeyne and Theon stumbling into the hall. Their hair was mussed, Theon's shirt was missing, his belt was unbuckled, Jeyne's dress was askew, and she was sporting several hickies.

"What's going on?" she giggled, holding onto Theon for support.

Sansa wished the floor would open up and swallow her. When it didn't, she ran to her room and buried her head under her pillows.

A knock came on the door several minutes later.

"Sansa? Is everything okay?"

She turned red; she didn't want Podrick to see her like this. She could feel him sit beside her on the bed and place a tentative hand on her back.

"Everything's horrible," she sniffed. "I wanted you to like my family."

"Well, I do like your family," he said gently.

She peered at him from underneath a pillow. "You're not just saying that?"

He smiled. "Never a dull moment with you Starks. If you wanted to know, most of the guests are leaving. Your mother went to lie down. Arya and Lommy threw up all over the place and Hot Pie passed out. Rickon bit Jaime Lannister, and all your brothers are giving Jojen the boyfriend talk they gave to me and Gendry."

"I'm so sorry you had to see this," Sansa groaned.

"Sorry?" Podrick exclaimed. "For what? It was great! If this is your Halloween party, I want to see what your Christmas party is like!"

Sansa buried her head under the pillows again.


	8. Merry Christmas, Darling

"What are you getting Gendry for Christmas?"

Arya slurped up the remains of her Coke. "I don't know. Why?"

Bran shrugged. "I just wondered. I mean, I didn't know if you were doing anything special for your first Christmas as, you know, boyfriend and girlfriend."

Arya paled. "Am I supposed to?"

Bran smirked. "Well, you don't have to, but if I know Gendry, he'll pull out all the stops."

"Well, shit." Arya sucked through her straw even though nothing was coming up. "What do you think I should do?"

"Well, I would feel weird saying it to my sister…"

Arya threw her straw wrapper at him. "Something he can hold, stupid. Not like that, you pervert!"

Bran snickered. "Well, he likes video games, right? Maybe get him one he hasn't been able to buy yet."

It wasn't a half bad idea. She broached the subject with Gendry the next time they were hanging out, just to be sure.

"You don't have Dance with Dragons 4, do you?" she asked nonchalantly.

He shook his head. "Nah, but I overheard Uncle Stannis telling Dad that's what I wanted for Christmas, so I'll have it then."

Arya sighed.

.

The rest of her brothers weren't any help.

"You could get him a new hoodie, seeing as how you steal all of his," Robb pointed out.

"And t-shirts," Theon added.

"I do not steal his clothes," Arya scoffed.

"Oh yeah? Then why is that shirt at least three times your size?" Jon laughed. "You're a kleptomaniac for Gendry's clothes."

Arya stormed upstairs.

.

She tried talking to Lommy and Hot Pie about it.

"You should write a song and sing it for him," Lommy suggested.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"No it isn't; I would love it if a girl sang to me," Lommy said indignantly.

"You would love it if a girl talked to you." Arya rolled her eyes.

"Well, they say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," said Hot Pie. "You could bake him a cake or something. I could help you."

It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.

Until, that is, Gendry mentioned that Selyse was going on a diet and forbade anything that was high in caloric intake from the house.

"And you're going along with it?" Arya asked in disbelief. "You're not even sneaking food or anything?"

"Have you ever tried sneaking anything past Stannis?" Gendry said dully. "I'll give you a hint, it doesn't work."

.

Arya tried the Edrics next, but they were completely useless.

"You should get him a sweater."

"Or a watch."

"Or his own X-box."

"Or a puppy!"

"Ooh, a car!"

"Can you get off your Rich White Boy Cloud of Delusion please?" Arya snapped.

.

She tried asking his father, but that proved to be a mistake.

"He's a boy, isn't he?" Robert boomed. "What do all boys want?"

"Robert, I would really rather you didn't give my fifteen-year-old daughter sex advice," Ned panicked.

.

She tried going to Gendry's roommate, but this proved to be a poor idea.

"You could get him a vacuum cleaner, for starters," Podrick grumbled as he straightened his side of the room. It was noticeably cleaner than Gendry's side. "Or a pair of headphones."

"He has headphones."

"Well, tell him to use them!" Podrick said irritably.

.

Every other boy she asked was just as useless.

"You could get him a nice book," said Sam.

"Porn," said Trystane Martell.

"Cologne," said Loras.

"Beer," said Renly. "Oh, shit, I mean, you're too young. Don't tell my brother I said that."

.

Arya was ready to give up.

She went to visit him at Stannis and Selyse's house a few days before Christmas.

"I have to finish shoveling the drive," he complained. "Go on inside, Selyse will make you some non-fat hot chocolate or something."

Selyse, as it turned out, was on her elliptical, so Arya went to bother Stannis in his study.

"Stannis, you've basically raised Gendry," she said, spinning his globe. "What do you think he wants for Christmas?"

"Don't touch that, it's an antique," he said without looking up from his paperwork. "You know what you could get him? A toolbox. He's always trying to build things in my garage."

She felt so stupid for not having thought of it sooner. "You're pretty smart, Stannis."

"So I'm told," he said dryly. "Now please get out."

.

Arya invited Gendry over to her house on Christmas Eve so that they could exchange gifts. She kept nervously touching the poorly-wrapped toolbox; it wasn't a romantic gift by any means, and she was worried Gendry wouldn't like it.

When he finally showed up, he looked annoyed. "I know what this is about."

She blinked at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I know you want to break up with me," he said in what she thought was a rather dramatic tone of voice.

"Excuse me—"

"I know you've been talking to a lot of guys lately," he continued. "Missing the single life?"

"You're being a butthead," she snapped. "I was asking them for Christmas present advice but their advice was all stupid."

"Oh." Gendry looked taken aback. "Well that's…uh…not what I was expecting."

"Oh my gods." She rolled her eyes. "Well, here's your Christmas present, anyway." She thrust the box at him.

"This is really heavy," he noted, undoing the paper. "I feel bad; I got you something, but I left it at home because I thought…you know…" He stared at the toolbox.

"Do you like it?" she asked nervously. "I know it's not, like, romantic or anything…"

"It's perfect," he said with disbelief.

"Really?"

He smiled at her. "I really needed my own tools." Suddenly he smirked. "Did Stannis tell you that?"

"No, I thought of it myself," she lied. "But what did you get me?"

He actually turned red. "Well, like I said, I left it at home," he said. "But, uh, I have a back-up."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. My, uh, dad gave me some advice."

Robert Baratheon, Arya decided when she pulled her pants back on a couple hours later, gave some fantastic advice.


	9. First Time

"Are you all right?" Podrick asked, shutting his bedroom door. Not that he needed to; Brienne wasn't home. Sansa was grateful nevertheless; there was something unsettling about having the house hear their private moments. "You look nervous."

Sansa waited until he was sitting on the bed beside her. "Podrick, we've been together for a while now."

"Well, yes," he said, blinking.

She took a deep breath. "I think…I think I'm ready for…" How did she say this without sounding like a bad movie? "I think I'm ready for, you know…the next step." When he stared at her, she whispered, "Sex."

"Oh. Oh." Podrick turned tomato-red. "Well, that's, um…yeah, me too."

"I…well, not right now," Sansa said, suddenly panicked.

"Oh, definitely not," he agreed, turning even redder.

"It needs to be special," said Sansa. "Not just special, but perfect."

.

The only problem was that Sansa had no idea what she was doing.

She had fooled around with Pod, of course (or as much as she could what with her family being the Starks and Jeyne Poole being her roommate), and she knew more than she really wanted to from Jeyne, but she didn't really and actually know what she was doing. Well, all right, she was fairly certain she knew what she was doing, but there was always the off-chance she would completely and irrevocably mess up and everything would be ruined forever.

So she sought out advice from her best friend.

After Jeyne finished screaming in excitement, she jumped onto Sansa's bed and leaned in. "The first time you have sex is fucking magical, Sansa. You have to treasure this moment forever."

"I will," Sansa vowed.

"So you need to pull all the stops, because boys aren't romantic," Jeyne sighed. "You need rose petals, scented candles, all the works."

"Rose petals?" Sansa asked uncertainly. "Isn't that a bit, you know…corny?"

"Have you ever made love amongst rose petals?" Jeyne asked in a very dignified voice for someone who was demanding Sansa's virginity be lost amongst rose petals. "It is the most luxurious feeling. And scented candles can be a wonderful aphrodisiac. Trust me, Sansa."

Well, it couldn't hurt.

"Oh, and lingerie," said Jeyne excitedly. "Wear sexy lingerie."

.

They waited for a night when Brienne would be gone and they would have the house to themselves (it would have been impossible to try such a thing in the Stark house). Sansa scattered rose petals all over the bed and the floor and lit the hundreds of scented candles she had bought with Jeyne. She even put on a CD that, according to the cover, was the perfect mood-setter. The final touch was removing her clothes to reveal the lacy blue lingerie Jeyne had insisted she buy.

It all started out very nicely, with Podrick kissing her and then growing a bit bolder. Their clothes came off piece by piece until they were in nothing but their underwear. Podrick leaned down and, much to Sansa's surprise, took her underwear in his mouth and began to pull it off of her. It was very sexy, until he got it stuck around her knees. He muttered something about "never taking advice from Bronn again" and pulled it all the way off. Sansa fought to remain calm and poised as Podrick put on the condom—this was it. This was the moment.

"I love you so much," Podrick murmured, touching her hair.

Sansa was about to reply that she loved him too when something caught her eye. "Your curtains!" she shouted, forgetting about their magical moment. "They're on fire!"

Podrick jumped out of bed and beat the curtains while Sansa blew out the scented candles that had caused the fire. It took so long and had been such a frightening interruption that the mood was ruined.

"Maybe we can try another time," Sansa said miserably.

.

Since Jeyne Poole's advice had turned out to be less than helpful, Sansa turned to another Jeyne—her brother's girlfriend.

Jeyne Westerling had always been the older sister Sansa never had, and Sansa knew she could rely on the older girl without worrying about ill advice or Jeyne tattling to Robb or any of the other Starks.

"Well, the scented candles were going a bit far, I think," Jeyne said after Sansa had related her failed attempt at having sex. "And the rose petals. And, well, maybe the lingerie." Jeyne sipped her iced mocha. "No, you can be romantic and simple." She paused. "You know, Daenerys Targaryen says that the Dothraki believe that all significant events of a man's life happen under the open sky." She gave Sansa a sly smile.

"Outside?" Sansa asked doubtfully. "Isn't that a little, you know…outside?"

"Drive out to an isolated area where you know people won't walk in on you. Just imagine, your first time under the stars?"

Sansa considered. It did sound romantic. And there was certainly no risk of anything catching on fire.

.

They waited until the full moon to head out in Pod's Subaru. He knew of a mostly isolated spot near the lake, which made it even more romantic to Sansa; under the stars and beside the water. They parked the car and walked down a deer path until they found a clearing close to the water. They laid down a blanket and settled down, grateful that they had chosen such a bright night. They started slow, kissing and giggling. Their shoes and shirts came off, and that was when the trouble started.

Sansa scratched at her arm—and then her leg, her hip, her face, everywhere.

"Are you all right?" Podrick asked, pulling back.

"Yes, it's just these bugs," she said, slapping one off her arm.

"Yeah, they're everywhere," Podrick agreed, swiping at a cloud of gnats. "Seven, they're not going away."

"What do they think I am, a free blood bank?" Sansa complained.

"I think they're getting worse," said Podrick.

"They're telling all their friends. Oh, get off!" Sansa grabbed her shirt and pulled it back on. "Pod, maybe we should—get off!—head back…"

By the time they reached the car, they were covered from head to toe in bug bites.

"What happened to you?" Ned asked when Sansa came home.

She was too itchy to be embarrassed. "Nothing." And she stormed up the stairs.

.

It was time to bring out the big guns. Sansa turned to the only other girl she knew of for advice—Ygritte. The redhead had had a lot of sex—that made her qualified, right?

"Just go for it," she said, furiously hitting a button on her controller.

"What do you mean?" Sansa asked.

"Just, you know, go for it." Ygritte's character savagely bludgeoned another character and then collected a book (Sansa didn't really understand video games). "Get him alone—or don't—and just, you know, jump on him and do your thing."

"That doesn't sound very romantic," Sansa protested in a small voice.

"Yeah? And where has romance gotten you so far?" Ygritte wanted to know.

Sansa thought back to the curtains catching on fire and the bugs eating them alive.

"That's what I thought," said Ygritte in a satisfied tone. "Just go for it."

It wasn't the worst advice. But it wasn't very good advice, either.

Sansa managed to get Podrick alone in her room when her family was either out or watching a movie downstairs—even then, she knew it was only a matter of time before someone butted in, so she shimmied out of her clothes and, taking a deep breath, pounced on Podrick in what she hoped was a sexy way.

It wasn't.

Her head butted his face and Podrick yelped in pain; he accidentally knocked her off of him as he slapped a hand over his eye.

"Oh, I'm so sorry…" Sansa wailed. "Here, let me see it."

Podrick removed his hand to reveal the beginnings of a black eye.

.

Sansa quite gave up after that. Maybe, she thought wistfully, she just wasn't meant to have sex with Podrick. Maybe this was the gods' way of telling her that she should wait until marriage or something.

A few weeks passed, during which Sansa and Podrick made no further attempts. It frustrated Sansa, and she was fairly certain that it frustrated Podrick too, but he was too nice to say anything about it.

Arya had to go to the gynecologist one morning and Catelyn made Sansa drive her. Afterward, they went to Starbucks, where Arya complained about the gynecologist for a while.

"Arya, you and Gendry…you have, um, sex. A lot. Right?" Sansa squeaked.

Arya slurped up the remains of her coffee. "Yeah, and?"

Sansa was starting to wish she hadn't brought this up in the middle of a popular coffee shop. "It's just…Pod and I…"

Arya's eyes widened. "You and Pod did the frick-frack?" she asked excitedly.

"No, and don't call it that!" Sansa hissed, looking around for eavesdroppers. "Well, we…we've tried, but…"

"How do you try to have sex?" Arya snorted. Then she looked sympathetic. "Oh, can he not get it up?"

"What? No, he can!" Sansa wanted to die. "It's just…well, every time we've tried, something goes wrong."

"Like…?"

"Like his curtains catch on fire or we get eaten by bugs or I give him a black eye," Sansa sighed.

Arya laughed. "Well, you're not doing it right, clearly."

"How do you do it, though?" Sansa begged.

"You just let it happen," Arya said simply. "You just do whatever you normally do when you're together and don't stop yourselves. Just let things happen."

"Is that how you did it with Gendry?" Sansa asked. She immediately wondered if she really wanted to know about her younger sister's sex life.

Arya shrugged. "Pretty much. We weren't planning anything. One minute we were making out and the next we were like, well, why not."

The candidness with which Arya appeared to have approached her first time was appalling; but Sansa couldn't help noticing that it had certainly worked.

"And nothing went wrong?" Sansa asked before she could stop herself.

"I mean, he almost got the condom stuck when he was trying to put it on, but that was about it." Arya watched Sansa. "You don't have to make it a big deal. Everyone always wants you to think your first time is special and magical but actually you're sweating all over each other and it hurts to walk the next day. And nobody ever comes the first time." She turned around and threw her napkin at a teenage boy sitting at the table behind them. "IT'S RUDE TO EAVESDROP!" She turned back to Sansa. "Just treat it like any other time you're with him, okay? It hasn't worked yet because you're trying to make it bigger than it really is. It's just another day."

This went against everything Sansa had ever read or heard. It was supposed to be special and there were supposed to be fireworks.

But every time she'd tried to make it special, it never happened and there were never any fireworks.

Maybe Arya was smarter than Sansa gave her credit for.

.

Arya was right.

Afterward, they wrapped themselves up in Podrick's sheets and listened to the buzz of the lawnmower outside.

"See?" Podrick said sleepily, his eyes already closed. "We did it. And we didn't even get injured."

"Well, there was some bloodshed," Sansa reminded him quietly.

Podrick's eyes shot open. "We have to get these sheets in the washer." He stood up—but his foot caught in the sheets and he fell on his face with a sickening crack. "I boge too boon. I dink gy nose is brogen."


	10. The New Girl

The students at Westeros Academy were required to wear uniforms. Uniforms were employed as a means of equalizing the students—in a crowd, it was often difficult to tell some students apart from others.

But the new girl stuck out like a sore thumb.

No one could quite put their finger on why. It was more than just her mane of silvery-blonde hair or her violet eyes ("They stare into your soul," insisted Hot Pie). Maybe it was something about the way she walked, as if she was the queen of the world ("She walks like that because she rides horses," Alla Tyrell said supremely). Or maybe it was just because she'd never been to public school ("She had a tutor when she lived in the Free Cities," Margaery Tyrell said matter-of-factly). Whatever the case, no one could stop talking about her.

"But who is she?" Sansa asked the Tyrell girls in awe.

"Her name is Daenerys Targaryen," Elinor burst.

"Her family used to be super rich and influential," added Megga. "But they got into this weird religion and now they're all either dead or in a mental institution."

"Except for Daenerys and her brother, Viserys," added Alla.

"He's super cute," Elinor butted in.

"Daenerys and Viserys were passed from foster home to foster home in the Free Cities," Margaery said in a much calmer voice. "Viserys has legal guardianship of Daenerys now and they wanted to come back home. Their family practically built this school, you know."

Sansa didn't know, but she didn't really care about Daenerys's family. "But what is she like?" she wanted to know.

"How do I even begin to describe Daenerys Targaryen?" Megga sighed.

"Daenerys Targaryen is flawless," added Alla.

"She has three horses," Elinor said.

"I hear her hair's insured for ten thousand gold dragons," Megga piped up.

"I hear she does car commercials…in Meereen," Alla said dramatically.

"Her favorite movie is The Last Dragon," said Elinor.

"One time, she met Xaro Xhoan Daxos in Quarth," said Megga.

"—and he told her she was pretty," Alla finished.

"The other day, she punched Joffrey in the face." Elinor lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. "It was awesome."

The Tyrell girls weren't the only ones in awe of Daenerys.

"She's really hot," Gendry said. "Ouch!" for Arya had punched him.

"She has a boyfriend," Lommy said gloomily. "Some Tyroshi."

"And her boyfriend before that was the head of a Dothraki motorcycle gang," Hot Pie added, apparently not seeing the pained look on Lommy's face.

"So it's just a matter of time before she runs into your arms, Lommy," Gendry snorted, laughing even harder when Lommy tried to kick him and missed.

But Lommy had a long line to wait in; everyone, it seemed, wanted Daenerys, from shy and studious Quentyn Martell to grizzly old Professor Mormont. Sansa didn't blame them; Dany, as the student body began calling her, had questionable judgment and often made poor decisions, but you couldn't help loving her ("It's because she's exotic," Lommy explained).

In fact, Dany's popularity happened with such rapidity that by the time Homecoming rolled around, she was voted Homecoming Queen.

"The Dothraki word for queen is khaleesi," Dany said in her worldly way. "It encompasses so much more than just queen, you know?"

Everyone was so impressed that the school soon adopted khaleesi as slang. If Daenerys noticed the effect she was having, she politely pretended not to.

Even Margaery Tyrell, who had been the queen of the school until Daenerys's arrival, appeared to have Targaryen fever; her Instagram indicated that she spent nearly every weekend riding horses with Dany.

"Aren't you jealous of her?" Megga asked.

"Why would I be jealous?" Margaery laughed.

"Because you were the most popular girl in school until Dany transferred in," Alla explained patiently.

Margaery only got a gleam in her eye that some might call greedy. "We'll see."

.

A few weeks before prom rolled around, word got out that Dany had broken up with her Tyroshi boyfriend. Every single male in the school (and a few not-so-single ones) fought to be the one on Dany's arm that night, but she turned down every one.

"I already have a date," she said with that offense-less grace she so often employed. When pressed to tell them who, she merely said, "You'll see."

"I bet it's her Dothraki ex," Lommy said moodily as he tore up the grass around him.

"Well, I heard she was hanging out with Hizdahr zo Loraq over break," Hot Pie said obliviously.

"Don't be stupid," snorted Gendry. "A Ghiscari celebrity isn't going to fly to King's Landing just so he can go to a high school prom, even if she is the hottest girl at Westeros Academy."

Arya kicked Gendry's backpack. "She probably just said that so that everyone would stop asking her," she scoffed. "She probably isn't even coming to prom, she's probably spending the night with her dumb horses…"

"Are you jealous?" Gendry demanded to know, a huge grin splitting his face.

"SHE'S NOT THAT HOT!" Arya bellowed at him before storming off.

.

But Daenerys was that hot.

Everyone always outdid each other at prom, but Dany outshone them all. In a dress of silk so fine it was almost sheer, she glided through the ballroom at the Embassy Suites and practically commanded the room. She didn't dance with any one person but was always surrounded by a group of admirers desperately trying to imitate her exotic dance moves.

"Where's your date, Dany?" Quentyn Martell asked with not a little envy.

Dany tossed a wave of silvery-blonde hair over her shoulder and laughed. "You'll see."

The music turned off after a while and Renly Baratheon took the microphone. "All right, kids, it's time to announce the Prom King and Queen, so stop grinding your grotsky little butts long enough to be supportive—that means you, Arya Stark and Gendry Baratheon."

The lights came up and everyone sighed as they made their way to the DJ stand. Renly pulled out two envelopes with an almost smug-looking expression. "The votes were a little interesting this year…unfortunately, a prom king could not be voted on."

Everyone murmured in surprise, and an outraged shriek of "WHAT?!" rose from Joffrey.

"Instead, there was a tie for prom queen," Renly continued as if he could not hear his sort-of-nephew pitching a hissy fit. "Our first prom queen is…Margaery Tyrell."

Everyone burst into applause as Margaery, wearing a gown with a daringly low v-neck, glided up to the DJ stand, smiling and waving royally at everyone.

"And our second prom queen is…Daenerys Targaryen."

"Not a queen," Daenerys said. The crowd parted for her. "A khaleesi."

Renly crowned both the girls to thunderous applause. The applause grew even louder when, after raising their joined hands, the two girls kissed sweetly. Then they swept off to dance with each other and ruin everyone's lives with their perfection.


	11. Girls Just Wanna

"I'm thinking of piercing my ear again."

Sansa looked up from her copy of Maiden Fair Magazine and gave her roommate a critical look. "You have a problem."

"What, because I like piercings?" Jeyne Poole turned to examine one ear and then the other in her mirror. "Piercings are sexy."

Sansa tugged self-consciously at her own unpierced ears. "They're all right."

The gesture did not go unnoticed by Jeyne.

"You should really pierce your ears," she said, hopping onto Sansa's bed. "I have some dangly earrings that would look great on you. I mean, obviously you'll have to wait a few weeks, but you should really do it!" Her eyes widened. "You should let me do it!"

"Absolutely not," Sansa said flatly.

"Oh, come on, Sans, it'll be fun—"

"Jabbing a needle through my ears is supposed to be fun?!" Sansa clapped her hands over her ears. "No! Besides, my parents would kill me if I got them pierced without their permission."

"What are they gonna do, chop your ears off?" Jeyne taunted. "What's done is done. They might get a little mad but you were going to pierce your ears someday. Why not now?"

"Because you are fourteen and haven't been professionally licensed to stab my ears," Sansa pointed out.

"You're such a baby," Jeyne huffed, swinging to her feet. She stretched and paused, tilting her head ever so slightly in Sansa's direction. "But you know, Joffrey Baratheon really liked Margaery Tyrell's earrings…he said so at lunch the other day."

Sansa turned tomato-red. "Well…I mean…I would never do anything for a boy, of course…"

"Of course," echoed Jeyne, pointedly not looking at the Joffrey Baratheon poster Sansa kept on her side of the room. The teen pop sensation had had Sansa's heart ever since his hit "Swaggy Love".

Sansa bit her lip. "Well…you've pierced your own ears, right?"

"Right." Though this was more out of necessity than personal preference; the Poole family was extremely religious and frowned upon piercings. In fact, the only jewelry Jeyne's four older sisters ever wore were purity rings and seven-pointed-star necklaces.

"And nothing bad ever happened…right?"

Jeyne shrugged. "Not really. I mean, Dad wasn't too happy, of course, but he never does anything. And your parents probably won't, either."

Sansa considered this. She didn't run into her father that often at school, and when she did, she could always keep her hair over her ears. And she could always just delay a visit home so that her mother wouldn't see. And it wasn't as if her siblings were going to tell; the first rule of being a Stark was to never rat out another Stark.

"Oh, all right," she said, eliciting a shrill squeal from Jeyne. Sansa just hoped she wouldn't live to regret it.

.

Sansa started to regret it.

Jeyne cleaned her ear and the earrings with some Vodka they'd stolen from Robb and Theon's room.

"Is that sanitary?" Sansa had asked.

"It's alcohol, of course it's sanitary," Jeyne had scoffed before taking a swig. Then she made Sansa hold very still while she clutched her giant unicorn and bit down on a sock.

"On three," said Jeyne, readying the earrings. "One…"

Sansa felt something sharp shove into her earlobe and she screamed into the sock.

"You said on three!" she accused when her ear had stopped throbbing long enough to talk.

"I didn't want you to tense up," Jeyne said, shrugging. "Okay, now the other one."

Sansa screamed a second time, and then a third time for good measure. "That hurts!"

"Yes, but now it's over," Jeyne said patiently. "Drink?"

.

Sansa's ears hurt long after they were pierced, though. She was able to ignore it the first couple of days because Jeyne said it was normal, and look, her cartilage piercing was red and swollen too, it would be fine.

But it wasn't fine.

"It's been over a week and my ears still hurt!" Sansa complained in the shower.

"It's always possible something went wrong," Jeyne said miserably in the next stall.

Sansa's shower curtain was shoved open and she tried to cover herself. "Arya!"

Arya was scowling at her from outside. "You got your ears pierced and didn't tell me?!"

"What, like you want your ears pierced?" Sansa snorted. "Isn't that a little girly for you?"

"Who said it was my ears I wanted pierced?" Arya demanded hotly.

"I don't pierce nipples," Jeyne giggled from the next stall.

Arya opened her moth to retort but Sansa wrenched the curtain back into place. "Do you mind? I'm kind of naked here."

They heard Arya huff and storm out of the bathroom.

"Anyway, Mum really wants me to come home this weekend," Sansa said as if nothing had happened.

"Are you going to tell her?" Jeyne asked.

"I don't think so," said Sansa. "She'll just yell at me for being irresponsible and make me take the earrings out. I'll just avoid her."

But no one avoids Catelyn Stark.

Sansa hid in her room for much of Friday night and Saturday morning, and she was almost successful, except that Catelyn dismissed everyone after lunch and made Sansa stay to help her clean up the kitchen.

"Why do I have to clean up?" Sansa groused.

"Because I've barely seen your face since you got here last night," Catelyn said sternly. "But you know what I have seen?"

"Let me guess: my poor attitude?" Sansa said sarcastically.

"Your infected ears," Catelyn said bluntly.

Sansa winced. "Um…about that…"

"I was a teenager once too, you know," Catelyn said in a wry voice. "Let me guess: Jeyne's work?"

Sansa gave a miserable nod.

"I thought as much. Well, come here; let me see it."

Sansa winced as her mother examined her ears.

"Mm-hmm. These are infected. You'll have to take them out."

"But I don't want to," Sansa cried. "Joffrey likes earrings, and all the other girls have them, and I'll be a loser forever—"

"Yes, dear," Catelyn gently spoke over her. "But you're putting your life at risk with this kind of infection. We'll get them re-pierced when they've healed—by a professional."

After she cleaned up Sansa, Catelyn called up Vayon Poole and made him bring Jeyne over so that she could clean her piercing, too. The girls were both in tears but Catelyn promised that she would take both of them to the mall to get their ears re-pierced when they had healed (Jeyne asked if she could also get a nose piercing, to which Catelyn said no do you want your sisters to send you to prayer camp again).

The three of them were just settling down to watch A Little Princess and share a tub of chocolate ice cream when Ned dragged Arya into the living room. "While you're removing piercings, I think you should take a look at this one."

"But ahm ha' co'!" Arya protested.

"Arya, a tongue piercing?! Really?!" Catelyn exclaimed.

"You're not taking her to get that re-pierced, are you?" Sansa sniggered.

Arya began to cry.


	12. Detention

"All right," growled Sandor Clegane, Westeros Academy's caretaker and nicknamed "the Hound" by the students. "We're gonna pick up every single fucking piece of trash out here."

"Are you allowed to use inappropriate language around students?" Arya, the Hound's latest detention victim, asked snottily.

"You're in detention; I'm allowed to use whatever fucking language I want," he snapped in her face.

Arya rolled her eyes and wandered around the yard, picking up cigarette butts and wrappers and other pieces of trash and throwing them in her trashbag. "This just seems like cruel and unusual punishment," she complained as she disposed of a used condom. "I thought detention was supposed to be in a classroom."

"I heard the last time you had a classroom detention you set off the fire alarm," the Hound reminded her. "Your dad figured this would be more of a punishment."

"But I like being outside."

"Stop talking."

They picked up trash in silence for a few minutes.

"Do you like kids?"

The Hound growled again. "I hate 'em. Especially loud ones who don't know when to stop talking."

Undeterred, Arya prompted, "If you hate kids, why do you work at a school?"

"'Cause there's benefits to working at a school. Especially a poncy little boarding school like this one."

"What kind of benefits?" she pressed.

"Do you ever stop talking?" he snapped.

"No," Arya answered seriously.

The Hound made a noise of frustration. "This pays better than anything else I'm qualified for. And before you ask what I'm qualified for, it's not a lot. I'll retire well."

Arya considered this. "What do you want to do when you retire?"

"I don't think I'm allowed to tell you."

"You'll use the word 'fuck' around me but you won't tell me what you want to do when you retire?" Arya asked with not a little skepticism.

"Watch your mouth," the Hound barked.

"Fuckity-fuck-fuck-bugger-fuck-fuck," Arya rattled off.

"Stark…" he growled, moving towards her.

The twelve-year-old danced out of his reach and hastily returned to picking up garbage. She thought the conversation over, until she heard the Hound mutter, "Lys."

Arya glanced up at him. "What?"

"Lys," he repeated, louder. "When I retire, I want to go to Lys. Drink my weight in whiskey and get in bar fights and pass out in the middle of the street."

"So you want to be in college, is what I'm gathering."

"The fuck do you know about college?"

"That's what my Uncle Edmure did when he was in college," she denounced in a very worldly tone for a seventh-grader.

The Hound grunted. "I wouldn't know. I've never been to college."

"I don't know if I want to go to college," Arya confided. "What would you have done, if you had gone?"

He scowled at her. "What do you mean, what would I have done?"

"I mean, if you could have gone to college for anything and you could do that job right now. What would it be?"

He was quiet for so long that Arya thought he was ignoring her. She huffed and went back to picking up trash when she heard it.

"A special agent," he said, embarrassment hiding behind the gruffness.

Arya didn't laugh. "You could still be a special agent," she said kindly.

He didn't smile at her but he wasn't exactly frowning, either, which Arya considered progress. "Can't. My criminal record is a bit…full."

"Clint Barton was a criminal, and he still became a special agent," Arya said instantly.

"Who the fuck is Clint Barton?"

"Hawkeye."

"A hot guy?" the Hound repeated, bewildered.

"Hawkeye. You know, like the Avengers?"

"Do I bloody well look like I have superpowers?" the Hound snapped.

"Hawkeye didn't have superpowers either, he was just trained in archery by a master," Arya persisted.

"Yeah, well, I doubt Hot Guy ever killed a man."

Arya's eyes bugged out and her mouth fell open. The Hound half-expected her to correct his pronunciation of Hawkeye, but she remained mercifully silent for the next ten minutes. When she wasn't looking, the Hound smirked.

"So what'd you do to get in detention this time?" he asked when he got bored of the silence.

The twelve-year-old drooped in sullenness. "Nothing. I was trying to break into Big Walder and Little Walder's room and put itching powder all over their clothes, but Littlefin—I mean, Mr. Baelish, caught me."

"Why the fuck were you trying to do a stupid thing like that?" the Hound wanted to know.

She muttered something indistinguishable.

"What?"

Louder, she said, "They told me to go to the kitchen and make them a sandwich."

The Hound's eyes narrowed. "Come with me."

.

Big Walder and Little Walder Frey were excused from class because of the sudden rash they had in first period. As they walked down the hallway, scratching furiously, Arya skipped past them. The Hound, who was fixing a doorknob, held out his hand; Arya high-fived it happily before skipping on down to the bathroom.

The Hound smiled.

(But only for a second.)


End file.
